


Midnight Sun

by BumbleAbeille



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: 900Gavin, Angst, Criminal AU, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Gavin900, Hannor, M/M, Mob Boss AU, but I made it fan fiction instead, hankcon - Freeform, reed900, this was originally going to be a book, yeet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-11 14:09:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17448455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BumbleAbeille/pseuds/BumbleAbeille
Summary: Detective Gavin Reed and Lieutenant Hank Anderson are after a notorious mob in Detroit, Michigan.  The problem is, their main suspect, Connor O'Malley, always has an alibi with witnesses.  In their frustrating hunt for justice, the mob may be inching...closer, than they had thought.





	1. Get Away With Murder

Another day, another dead body in an alleyway. It was winter in Detroit, the rain fell as sheets of ice rather than soft snowflakes, making the crime scene all the more bone chilling. It was the kind of place that could make you jump at shadows, pulling a gun on nothing at all. The two partners had certainly encountered worse than this before, but it was late evening, the sky was pitch black and the street lights provided no comfort. Gavin Reed was a moody detective for the Detroit Police Department, his partner was the hard-ass Lieutenant Hank Anderson. They were originally just on homicide, but recently, things were getting more...specific. Detroit had a mob problem, and the two of them were assigned to tracking down and arresting every single mobster they could. The knew who the leader was, they were so sure of it. His Name was Connor O'Malley. There was no one in Detroit that could possibly fit the bill more perfectly than him. He lived alone in a gorgeous mansion, but was completely unemployed. He was sweet, charming, overall far too friendly- just they way you'd need to be in that line of work to avoid being suspect. His family, besides seven brothers and sisters, was all dead and gone, but they were so below middle class inheritance might has well have been seventy five dollars each. He was the perfect suspect, but there was one problem: he always had a verifiable alibi. Usually the unfortunate John and Jane Doe's bodies were found with the mob's calling card, a which was quite literally that- a card. They had learned to differentiate the goons from the man on top by the card. For the goons, it was a Jack of Clubs with a dollar sign drawn in sharpie, usually left in the victim's pocket. But the leader? It was a King of Diamonds with a line drawn through the King and his reflection with the victim's blood, placed over whatever wound caused their fatality. Today, Reed and Anderson were lucky enough to come across the ringleader's own work. A man lie dead in the alley, the King of Diamonds placed gently onto his slit throat. The hail no longer melted on his cold corpse, it just rolled to the ground, absorbing the blood dripping from his blue lips.

  
"Sick Bastard," the Lieutenant spat, observing the leader's handiwork, "What do you think this time? Grocery shopping or soup kitchen?"

  
The Detective shook his head and ground his teeth, "Bet you my soul it's the nursing home. Seems to be his usual Saturday excuse." Quiet thunder rolled in the distance, signaling a worse storm was heading their way.

  
"How long do you think he's been here?" Anderson inquired, pacing around the body. Reed knelt down, taking a closer look.

  
"Hard to say, considering the body went cold god knows when. Fucking hail." He huffed, standing up and returning to the patrol car to call up to Coroner. They didn't need an autopsy to know how he died, they just needed to know when. Sadly, no matter when he died, Connor probably already had an excuse for not being there.

———

"I fucking told you it would be the nursing home."

  
"It's him, it has to be. I feel like I'm losing my fucking mind."

  
Volunteering to read stories to the elderly at a nursing home, that's where Connor O'Malley had been from eight in the morning to five thirty in the evening on Saturday, December 3rd. The confirmed time of death was somewhere around two to four in the afternoon, which means that he couldn't have done it- but he has to have. They'd taken him in for questioning before, asked him how he had so much time for volunteer work, to which he replied he didn't have a job. They further prompted him by asking how he can afford the mansion he lives in, and he just said "because I can". There was proof he paid his taxes and didn't skip on bills, so they asked him how he has so much money. "I just do." It wasn't a viable response, but unfortunately, he wouldn't give them any other answer for the whole four hours they had him at the station.

  
"Maybe he gave his goons a personal calling card to throw us off the scent, make us less suspicious." Anderson was pissed, not that it was uncommon.

  
"How the hell am I supposed to know?” Reed snarled at him, creasing his eyebrows. The two of them had never got along before, being paired up on an investigation with each other wasn’t going to change that. The detective glanced down at whatever Anderson was holding, huffing exasperatedly.

O’Malley, Connor James  
Sex: M  
Age: 36 Birthdate: 17 August, 1991  
Eye Colour: Brown / Amber  
Hair Colour: Brown / Brunette  
Criminal Record: Shoplifting Details: Attempted to steal multiple packages of Ramen in college, claimed he was “broke as hell, tuition got me dead”.  
Education: High School Diploma, College Drop-Out.

It just didn’t make any sense how he could possibly have so much money and be unemployed without being involved with something shady. Anderson stood, dropping the file back onto his desk with excessive force. He hated every aspect of his job, Reed, the investigation, Connor. He wanted to go home and kick back, drink a beer, and pet his dog. Hell, maybe even watch a movie or something, but no. He was stuck with this goddamn investigation. He’d had enough.

  
“That’s it,” he stated matter of factly, throwing on his jacket, “I’m going to question him. I’m tired of his bullshit excuses and answers he won’t give. I’m talking to him.” Reed scoffed at him, running his fingers through his hair,

  
“Right, because we haven’t tried that before. Honestly are you fuckin’ drunk or something? You’re wasting your time. We’ve got other leads that might be credible, it might actually be time to move on from this guy considering he always has a valid excuse.” Anderson glared at him stepping away from his desk,

  
“How doesn’t that make you suspicious, that he always has an alibi. What’s he doing when a crime isn’t being committed? Sitting at home watching TV, planning another attack and where he needs to be when it happens so we can’t trace it back to him?” Reed let out an exasperated breath and rested his face in his hands as though he was about to collapse.

  
“Or maybe, get this, you’re a paranoid old man.” Old, that son of a bitch. Fifty three is like the perfectly aged wine of humans. Not old.

  
“Up yours, Reed. I’m going, just a shame you’re going to stay here and get no credit in the investigation.” Alas, this jab didn’t convince the detective otherwise, forcing the Lieutenant to go alone.  
———  
The roads were icy, making for a slower, more careful drive on Anderson’s part. Luckily, O’Malley’s mansion wasn’t exactly a cabin in the woods. It was located in a fairly populated neighborhood, mostly filled with retired rich snobs who had a talent, too much time on their hands, and enough greed to go around. The along the road were stripped of leaves, their winter coats consisting of thick bark and a light frost coating it, it made everything seem so much darker, more desolate, despite being in a colorful, fancy neighborhood. The Lieutenant pulled into his number one suspect’s driveway, approaching the giant residence. "His logical financial state should have him sleeping in his car," Anderson thought bitterly. He stepped out of his car, pulling his jacket tighter around him as he strode to the front door, the permafrost crackling beneath him. Were his hands not so cold, he would have pounded on the door. He was so tired of not having answers, he was tired of his boss giving him less time off because of a serious investigation. He settled for ringing the doorbell, which echoed a classic bell tune you might hear when an old clock goes off. There was a faint sound of stumbling from inside, so Connor must have been upstairs. Anderson could’ve swore he heard something else, more than one pair of feet scrambling, but his suspicion waned about who it might be when O’Malley opened the door, just straightening out a shirt he seemed to have thrown on.

  
“Oh hello there, Lieutenant! What brings you back here?” He smiled innocently, his eyes squinted a bit with the rising of his cheeks. He as a person was the opposite of what you’d expect a mob boss to be, but Anderson wasn’t fooled. He trailed his eyes up the stairwell, but found nothing.

  
“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Anderson responded gruffly, his eyes still scanning the inside of the well decorated house. O’Malley seemed confused for a moment before realization sparked up in his eyes,

  
“Oh! No, no nothing like that, I was in the middle of getting changed when you rang the bell, I tripped over my own two feet.” He giggled, apparently trying to convey manufactured embarrassment. Was Anderson not absolutely trained on the idea that this man was a murderer, he might have believed he was genuine. He observed the other man, looking for some mistake, something that doesn’t line up exactly with his story. There wasn’t much to see, besides his hair. It was formally styled, bringing forward the question, where was he that he needed to look so formal today? He was brought back to reality by the Young Man snapping his fingers at him.

  
“Uh, Lieutenant, are you alright? What is it exactly you’re here for?” He smiled awkwardly, furrowing his brow. Anderson sharpened his gaze, irritated by how not…not guilty he seemed.

  
“You’re a good actor,” he said bluntly, the other man looked hurt, his soft gaze saddened. “There is no plausible way that you live in a place like this, pay all your taxes, pay all your bills, and not have a job. So considering you aren’t a famous artist or some shit like that, it’s hard not to believe that you aren’t up to something.” The saddened gaze disappeared and the small smile returned to his face,

  
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Lieutenant,” he said cheerily, “but I’m afraid I just can’t explain my fortune. I mean, gosh, I’d understand accusing me of theft or tax evasion, but murder?” He gave a chuckle that made Anderson’s blood boil.

  
“Where were you that you needed to style your hair? Meeting?” He did his best to keep his cool, breathing steadily through his nose. Connor tilted his head slightly, giving him a confused look.

  
“I always do my hair when I’m going out,” he explained, “I was going to go the the grocery store, but I slipped and fell on my way out, I was soaking wet. I had just come back in to change when you showed up.” The Lieutenant narrowed his eyes at him, looking him up and down. He didn’t say anything, he hated the feeling of defeat, the perfect lies the man told. He hated him. He gave one last huff of disapproval before he turned and sauntered back to his car.

  
“Drive safe Lieutenant, the roads are icy!” Anderson could hear the smile. He could hear the way his voice changed when he grinned. He hated him.


	2. Frozen Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reed and Anderson are yet again stumped and lost by their case, until Gavin receives a strange text message.  
> Texts!  
> G( = what Gavin is saying
> 
> #(  
> or  
> R( = what the other number is saying

Reed was in the break room getting a cup of coffee when Anderson arrived back at the station, he wondered how it had gone, even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud. The hail had subsided and and was replaced by an unfaltering rain, so the Detective just stayed in the station. An alert popped up on his phone,  
Blood Test - Lab Results  
Type: O  
Belongs to: Spencer Beech  
See Criminal Record

Sexual Assault, Theft and Battery.

At least he was an asshole. He shoved his phone back into the pocket of his jeans and took his coffee, forcing himself towards the Lieutenant’s desk. As he approached, he could see the homicidal frown on his partner’s face.

  
“I’ll go out on a limb and say he had a perfectly non-incriminating way of answering each and every one of your questions?” He sneered, taking his seat at the desk across from Anderson’s. Surprisingly, his partner didn’t strangle him, instead pursing his lips and leaning back in his chair.

  
“He made one thing very clear to me today,” he turned his head to face the Detective’s, “He knows I’m on to him, and he knows I can’t prove it.” Reed raised his eyebrows, giving him a skeptical look.

  
“How do you know? You gotta give me more than that.” He was almost interested, but was far too certain that his partner was just overly invested in the idea that this O’Malley guy was the one.

  
“Body language, Gavin. They way he looked at me, the way he acted, like he was teasing me, tormenting me on purpose. Everything in the way he acted was too obvious, like he was trying, knowing it’s not solid enough evidence.” Body language. He’d lost it, absolutely lost it. Apparently according to body language this guy was a mob boss. He wanted to just up and walk away, but he settled for picking on him.

  
“You sure he’s not just flirting with you?” After all, next to criminal activity, being a sugar baby could be another reason this guy was so rich. His partner huffed at him, something about it almost seemed like a chuckle.

  
“Psh, why would he do that? After all, I am an old man, and I’m certainly not wealthy.” It was like he read Reed’s mind. Just then, his friend, Officer Tina Chen, jogged up to them.

  
“Hope you boys aren’t too comfortable, we just got a report of gunfire. Might be a shootout, you should go.” The Detective holstered the gun that had been sitting on his desk, his partner stood and stretched, he swore to him later on that he could hear his bones cracking.

———

They approached the crime scene, which was what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. They stepped out of the cruiser, approaching an officer who was taping the area off limits. The officer didn’t have time to greet them before Reed started talking,

  
“Who died, any officers hurt?” The young officer shook her head and cleared her throat nervously,

  
“No officers were present here, it was a shootout between what looks like two rival gangs. When I got here, no one was left alive…well except, uh…he got shot in the arm, but he uh….he um, well, I cuffed him and he’s in the back of the my car, if you guys want to interrogate him.” The Detective gave her a nod of approval and she led them to where her car was parked, opening the back door to reveal a middle aged man, dressed in a black tuxedo and bowtie. Anderson spoke first, his voice tinged with mild confusion,

  
“What the hell kind of fifties shit is this?” Reed grabbed the man by the shoulder and pulled him to his feet, walking him over to a sheltered workstation where they could sit down. The Detective opened his mouth to speak, but Anderson waved his hand to signify that he should keep quiet.

  
“So, you wanna tell us what you’re doing at an abandoned warehouse surrounded by dead bodies?” The Lieutenant asked, glancing inside of the ajar warehouse door, where he could see the browning blood staining the frosty floors, the bodies of others dressed like the man before him scattered all around. The mobster held his gaze with the lieutenant but did not speak. Reed turned to his partner,

  
“Look at this guy, he’s dealt with worse than “mommy is disappointed in you”.” The Detective turned to the cuffed man, “Hey, you wanna stay silent, or do you want another bullet hole in your arm? Answer the damn question.” The mobster flinched and let out a sharp breath, his gaze following Reed now.

  
“They showed up recently, we didn’t know what to make of them. They were on our turf, and we didn’t know a thing about them, could be loose canons for all we’d known. My boss set up a meetin’ with their leader, she called herself North. All we wanted was to ask what they wanted, what their business was, but it was an ambush. I managed to play dead before I got killed for real, tried to run away when I was sure they were gone, but got shot by that crazy chick-cop.”

  
“Before you tell me who they are, let’s hear a little bit about you, yeah? What do you mean this is your turf? Who are you?” Reed paced back and forth, it was obviously stressing the mobster out. Good, he should be.

  
“Gemini… our name is Gemini. We run these streets you see, it us peoples’ supposta be afraid of. Our boss said he was gonna come speak with this North personally, but he never showed. Good thing I suppose, best he ain’t killed, things wouldn’t run very smoothly then…” he trailed off, but he nodded to his inside pocket, telling them to check it. Anderson kept his gun trained on him in case he tried anything, but he didn’t. Reed pulled a small deck of cards from the man’s pocket and flipped them over to reveal Jacks of Clubs with Dollar Signs drawn in thick, black ink.

  
“Now,” Reed started pacing again once he’d handed Anderson the deck, “Drop the fake Boston accent and tell me about your adversaries.” The mobster looked shocked, his mouth falling open slightly.

  
“I beg ya’ pardon?” The Detective creased his eyebrows and pursed his lips disapprovingly, that alone had the energy of a threat. “Yeah, fine, whatever.” The Mobster complied bitterly. “They said their name was Opis, in the text they sent my boss. We don’t know anything else.” The Lieutenant stood and halted Reed’s pacing,  
“And who is this boss of yours?” He inquired, staring menacingly into his eyes. The mobster did not speak, his gaze fell the the ground below him. Reed chose to put emphasis onto what his partner had asked.

  
“Who is your boss?” He snarled, putting his gun the the man’s head. Still, the mobster didn’t move, didn’t speak. The Detective fired a warning shot at the ground in front of the suited man, he flinched, but still he remained mute. “I’m gonna give you one more chance to talk, or you’re going behind bars.”

  
“I’d die for my family,” the mobster spoke in a hoarse voice, “that’s not about to change now.” Family. Apparently a murderous gang of thugs qualified as a family by this day’s standards. Reed scoffed and grabbed him by the arm and escorted him back to the other officer’s cruiser, stuffing him in the back and slamming the door shut. He turned around and met the female officer face to face, she started to say something.

  
“Erm, Detective Reed… I was just wondering-” he shook his head and shoved passed her. He didn’t have time to deal with whatever she had to say right now. Or he just didn’t really care. He shoved past her and gestured for Anderson to follow him into the warehouse so they could investigate the crime scene itself. The inside was a massacre, there was more blood than they had observed from a distance, more bodies than they’d realized littered the ground. Reed tried to look at the bright side, they not only had less murderers to deal with, but it was too recent for the bodies to start decaying and smelling…but it was still lives lost. Many would assume that this kind of thing would be the last way The Detective felt, but they’d be wrong.

  
“Jesus, what a mess,” Anderson said beside him, “Guess she was right, it kind of is a gang rivalry of sorts. Just opposing mobs.” He frowned and turned to Reed, “Just means we have another group of psychos to deal with. At least they aren’t on the same side.”

  
The Detective observed the scene, Gemini dressed in black, Opis dressed in white. It was obvious that the newcomers got the drop on them, the body ratio was astounding. About 10 to 4.

  
“It suppose it says something doesn’t it?” Reed turned back to his partner, “Gemini went straight for diplomacy, making a deal. They seemed to value keeping a peace.” He gestured to the fallen men in white next, “This Opis had no intention of peace, they killed as many of them as they could before they even knew what was going on. After all, the surviver did say they’d come to talk, not to fight.” The two of them wandered the scene, collecting small samples of blood frozen into the ice. The warehouse was cold, it’s walls old and rusted. It gave an unsettling feeling of solitude that Reed wasn’t much fond of, silently hoping to get out as soon as possible. Despite these things, it wasn’t dark. There was a cold grey light filtering through the corroded roof, and many panels were either severely damaged or missing. They were taking a blood sample from an Opis when the other young officer came barreling through the door,

  
“He’s dead! He…killed,” she caught her breath, “He killed himself. Smashed his head against the glass until the head trauma killed him.” They jogged back out to her cruiser, but they didn’t need to get close to see the blood smeared on the window.

  
“Oh for…” The Detective heard Anderson say under his breath as they stared that the dripping red stain. They finally had someone, someone they could take back to the station and interrogate, someone with information. And he was dead.

  
“Jesus, what the hell are we supposed to do now?” He had to look away from the sickening scene, fearful that if he were to gaze on he would start feeling sick. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, so he used it as an excuse to get away. He clicked it on to find he had a text from a number that wasn’t registered in his phone. Probably a wrong number, he supposed, opening it up. But his eyes flicked over the words, he knew it wasn’t.

#(So, looks like it’s going to be a closed casket funeral. Don’t worry, I know it’s not your fault, but be careful anyways.

What the hell?

G(Who is this?

He stared at his screen, impatiently awaiting a response, but when it came, he wasn’t satisfied.

#(Wouldn’t you love to know ;)

The detective whipped his head around, searching for someone, anyone, because these messages meant that they were being watched. And whoever was watching them knew exactly who that man was, and exactly who to contact. For a second he thought about telling Anderson, but he promptly changed his mind when he realized this would only further the Lieutenant’s suspicion of O’Malley further…somehow. He heard his partner’s voice calling to him from where their cruiser was parked, so he chose it was best to return without a fuss.

  
“What took you so long? Who was it?” Already prying, typical. Reed groaned and slid into the driver’s seat, nearly banging his head on the way in.  
“Nothing, it was just kindly informing me that someone posted on Twitter.” He turned the key in the ignition and let his head fall back onto the headrest, “I felt too queazy to come back, though. This has been a strange day.” He added quickly to appease suspicion, but it was partly true anyways.

  
The drive back to the station was quiet, they didn’t turn on the radio. It had started to hail again a little while ago, but it had already turned to sleet, an icy, mushy monstrosity. The car was warm but the very sight of the weather outside gave the detective a chill. A low fog hung along the roads, and dark clouds hung overhead. It was too dark, it didn’t feel like December. The roads were blackened by the vicious waters pouring down on them, and the street was dangerously slippery. When they arrived, Anderson got out of the cruiser and walked to sauntered to his own car without a word. The cold of rush air that snuck in when he opened the door was unpleasant, just another reminder of the harsh conditions they would have to be working in.

———

When Reed got home, he changed into a pair of sweatpants and made himself yet another cup of coffee. He reclined on his sofa and turned the TV on, but he wasn’t really paying any attention- it was just background noise to him. Another way of not going mad from silence. He opened his messages, wondering if he could get anything more out of the mystery number.

G(If I don’t get to know who you are, why did you bother contacting me in the first place? Doesn’t seem fair.

He felt something, or multiple somethings, stab into his stomach, so he turned his attention away from his phone. His cats had jumped up onto him and were gazing at him expectantly.

  
“Hey Kiddos,” he smiled softly and reached out to pet them, straining a bit since cats don’t seem to understand that arms have limits. He forced himself to sit up a bit to reach the both of them, giving them soft head rubs. The younger, fluffy, white cat meowed at him for food. “Yes Peppermint, I know you’re hungry, thank you for your input.” He got up and traveled to his small laundry room where he kept their food bowls, filling them to the brim so he wouldn’t be bothered for a while. He was putting their food away when he heard his cheery text-tone. He nearly tripped over himself scrambling back to the living room. His phone was flat against the table, which made it frustrating to attempt to grab. There it was, a response from the number.

#(I was just warning you, but geez fine. I’ll give you a hint: You don’t like me

G(Thanks! Could you be more vague please?

G(By the way, I know WHAT you are. Mob boss, blah blah blah. I mean WHO?

#(Well damn, if you didn’t get that I was the boss from first message, I’d be fully convinced you never graduated kindergarten

#(Anyways, let me think of another hint ;P

Amazing, not even the weirdest shit I’ve done. So, there Reed sat, texting the nefarious leader of the mob he and his partner had been hunting for months. He hadn’t really expected for the cold blooded killer to use so many variations of the winky face, or any face at all really.

#(I think that new girl really wants ask you out

G(How is that a hint?

#(Well technically it IS. It’s not a hint about my identity, but I just felt like I should give you that hint because you certainly aren’t taking her’s

G(Why don’t you ever put a period at the end of you sentences?

#(Because I’m texting, not writing a novel

#(Duh

The detective let out a huff that you might actually be able to consider a laugh, but he knew he needed to remember who was actually talking to.

G(Fine, whatever. So, I guess I have to be more specific. Give me another hint about your identity.

#(You sure you want to use your last wish on that question ;p

G(FFS why are you even carrying on a conversation then.

#(Because I’m bored and you’re entertaining

G(Then why do I only get 3 questions?

#(You got me there

#(Here’s your hint, free of charge:

#(My name is Richard

R(Nice to meet you!

G(Ok, good to know you’re either a really old man, or your parents hate you.

R(Not gonna lie, second one hits pretty close to home

G(If you weren’t a murdering son of a bitch I’m currently trying to catch and put in jail, I might actually have apologized.

R(Aw stop ur making me blush

Reed hadn’t really moved, he was just standing his living room, eyes glued to his screen. He was roused from this state by his orange cat, Pumpkin, nibbling at his foot. He blinked a few times and looked down at her, slowly coming to the realization that he’d been standing there for a while. He bent over and scratched her chin, and she purred with delight. He sat back down onto his sofa, picking up his coffee and taking a sip. He scrunched his nose when the liquid touched his tongue, silently cursing himself that he’d let it go cold. He carefully put the cup back down on the table and brought the phone back up into his sight.

G(So is this what you always do when you’re bored? Text the person investigating your various crimes?

R(That’s honestly the equivalent of “I bet you say that to all the girls”

G(I’ll take that as a no then.

G(Do you live in Detroit, or are you just running a mob from outside city limits?

R(That sounds inconvenient

R(Yeah I’m in Detroit

The detective took another reluctant sip of his cold coffee, and left his phone alone until it went to sleep. He tossed it on to the table, far less gently than he had set down his cup. He was finding difficult to wrap his head around the strange circumstances, it was giving him a migraine. Reed closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to take over. The TV was still on, but it remained nothing but white noise, like it was raining voices.


	3. Messages in Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank wants to cuddle his dog, but crime never sleeps.  
> This crime though, is a little more personal.

He just wanted to pet his dog and sleep in, goddamnit. Anderson got the call at roughly four in the morning, he’d passed out at his dining room table after a few too many bottles and a stomach full of takeout. He couldn’t catch a break, as if it wasn’t already bad enough that he didn’t have any time available to take off. He made sure he pestered the officer calling him in until he gave him details as to why he should be woken up so early in the morning. Of course he already suspected the answer, but it annoyed him nonetheless. Reed was already standing at the end of the dead end alleyway when he pulled up, focusing his flashlight on something in the back. The weather couldn’t seem to make up its mind, because when the Lieutenant got out of his car, he could hear a thin layer of snow crunching beneath his feet. The body was near the opening, dressed in a white suit and bowtie. Fancy, what the hell were they doing out this late? But then he snapped out of his sleep deprived state and realized what he was staring at. It was a member of Opis. There was a large gash in the man’s stomach spilling blood onto the ground, but there was something missing.  
“Reed,” Anderson called without looking up, “Did you find a calling card anywhere?” The only response he received was silence, and he finally sauntered over to his partner to see what he was looking at. There, painted on the wall with what appeared to be blood, were two words.

"Hey Boys!"

It was messy and dripping, and it was accompanied by a half assed, bloody painting of a heart. Anderson’s face screwed up in disgust at the sight of it.  
“Jesus…” he felt his partner prod his hand with something, and he glanced down to see it. He took it off of Reed’s hands and gazed at it, giving a drawn out, deep sigh. King of Diamonds, line drawn between the King and his reflection in blood. He watched as the detective lifted his phone and snapped a picture of the gruesome message before them, before asking for the calling card back.

  
“What are we even supposed to think about this, are they toying with us?” Anderson’s voice shook a bit as he spoke, but he couldn’t continue as he was entirely lost for words. He completely disregarded the corpse that lay behind them, it was just another murderer. His head was spinning, trying to figure out what he was supposed to make of it. Was it even meant for them? Maybe it’d been a warning or a jab from one mob to the other. He shook his head in an attempt to break free from his trance like state, turning his attention back to his partner.

  
“Reed, you ok?” He flicked his gaze down and noticed that the Detective was texting someone. “It’s four-thirty in the morning, we’re at the scene of a murder, there is a message on the wall written in blood, and you’re texting?” He prodded Reed in the arm and rolled his eyes as the Detective flinched back to reality in surprise.  
“Yeah, asshole. I’m texting Chris the picture I took of the message, so if we freeze to death out here, at least the evidence will have been transferred back to the station.” The Lieutenant pulled his jacket closer to him in an attempt to overcome the cold, but nothing seemed to be helping.

  
“Alright, then we should take pictures and collect all of the evidence right now so we don’t freeze to death.” His nose scrunched up with annoyance as his partner huffed and put his phone back in his pocket. The two of them promptly finished up what little remained at the scene and hastily made their ways back home.

———

Finally, he got to sleep in. This time, Anderson woke up around noon to his dog, Sumo, licking his face. He made the mistake of turning the light on fully when he wandered to his kitchen, causing him to squint in discomfort. The floor felt ice cold to his bare feet, almost like it was covered in frost. His eyes finally got used to the bright lights so he could see clearly, and his feet weren’t shocked by the cold hardwood. He opened his fridge and pushed the stray hairs away that had fallen in his face. His jaw clenched when he realized he was completely out of food. He gritted his teeth and slammed the door shut, startling Sumo. He stomped back to his room and threw on a pair of sweats, a wrinkled jacket and a pair of shoes before he trotted out the door.

  
The parking lot at the supermarket was especially crowded that day, which only added to the Lieutenant’s frustration. To his luck, he stepped out of the car to find that the ground wasn’t icy, but the weather just bitter cold. The constant unpredictable changes to the form of cold that the city was experiencing was getting old. He was pleased, on the other hand, to find that the supermarket was well heated. Anderson took a cart from the long line of them near the entrance, and just wandered until he found most of the things he was looking for- eggs, lunch meat, bread, etc. As he was rounding a corner into another isle, he accidentally knocked into someone, causing them to drop a couple of the things they’d initially been attempting balance in their arms.

  
“Crap, sorry.” He said bending over and picking up one of their cans to give back to them. He came face to face with the unfortunate shopper and immediately regretted ever leaving his house. The shopper immediately smiled energetically when he recognized Anderson.

  
“Oh! Good afternoon, Lieutenant, sorry I was in your way.” His eyes did the cute squinty thing which revealed a little dimple on his cheek. You have got to be shitting me. Anderson gave an exasperated sigh, handing the can over.

  
“I thought you went grocery shopping yesterday.” He remarked coldly, scoffing at him. Connor seemed to freeze, uncertainty flashing across his face- but that could have just been the Lieutenant’s imagination, he was still tired.

  
“Oh- oh well…well I was going to, but it wasn’t exactly urgent, so I didn’t bother.” Anderson looked back on their previous conversation, and for once, he actually found a continuity error. O’Malley’s hair was curly and messy today, like he’d just woken up.

  
“I thought you always do your hair before you go out, or am I mistaken?” If there had been any fear, any doubt in Connor it was gone. He snapped back with a perfectly sensical response.

  
“I ran out, that’s one of the things on my list.” The stack wobbled slightly and he shifted to keep his groceries from falling, nearly dropping his bunch of bananas. Despite this, he didn’t leave, he just looked at Anderson expectantly, as if waiting for another question. The Lieutenant thought it was as good a time as any to ask him were he’d been early that morning, considering he wasn’t going anywhere.

  
“What were you up to after midnight last night?” He watched as Connor’s face changed from expectant to concerned,

  
“Oh gosh, did someone die? Lieutenant I assure you, I was at home sleeping.” Anderson was irritated by the fact that O’Malley just knew that he was such a suspect, he already had an answer at the ready. He gave a slight shake of his head as he gazed at the man before him, so innocent. Before he could respond Connor tilted his head and spoke again.

  
“Lieutenant, is it okay if I ask you a question? Since, well, you know, you’re always asking me?” Anderson paused for a moment, squinting at him, wondering what his intentions were. After a moment he nodded, still skeptical. Connor gave him another bright smile and continued.

  
“Ok, so, basically, I understand why you think I am what I am. The whole ‘me being rich’ thing is confusing, and you accuse me of…murder. I’ve said it before, I could understand accusing me of theft or tax evasion, but murder. Why? Why do you think I’d kill people?” His smile had faded back into a concerned frown by the time the Lieutenant had opened his mouth to speak.  
“I’ll be honest with you, I don’t trust anyone who is the living embodiment of a golden retriever. Being that sweet m

akes you look like you’re hiding something. You are constantly volunteering and doing good deeds, constantly happy and kind- and I’ve never met anyone else who does something like that so much and doesn’t get tired of it. The constant verifiable excuses for where you are at the time, it just seems so convenient.” As he explained, Connor’s eyes flicked over him curiously.

  
“I suppose you’re right, that would be a little strange.” He gave him a small smile, “Lieutenant, you are a very dedicated cop, you know that? You seem like the kind of person who would stop at nothing to save the people around you, and I hope that the circumstances never become as dire as you losing your own life because of it. I do hope you find the monsters doing this, though. I’m sorry you believe it’s me.” With that, he shifted his groceries one more time to make sure they were stable and walked away with a small nod of his head. Anderson sighed and finished his shopping, for some reason unable to focus on it fully. On his drive home, he found himself conflicted, why did he suspect O’Malley so much? He didn’t enjoy questioning himself, it made him feel like he wasn’t a full step ahead. Once again, snow started falling from the sky, gracefully landing on the ground like tiny crystalline parachuters. He fumbled in his pocket for his house keys as he approached his doorstep, and Sumo was already barking at him from inside. The big fluff boy greeted him at the door by jumping on him and licking his jacket, and the Lieutenant had to push past him to actually make it inside. Apart from a quick pat on the head, Sumo wasn’t awarded much affection from his grumpy owner.

Anderson finally had all of his groceries put away and had made himself some scrambled eggs, which he ate while sitting on his couch and watching TV. This was pretty much it, his life out of work. It wasn’t interesting or fun, just a lonely, miserable existence that he dealt with every waking moment. His investigation into the mob activity was the only thing keeping him interested enough in his job not to quit, as he was otherwise bored with day to day investigations. Surprisingly, the mob activity was causing most of the crime in the city for a few months straight, which was strange, as mob activity wasn’t on the rise, but the rate of other crimes were going down. Anderson stared blankly at the television, as his mind had been elsewhere, wondering why he was still here, still dealing. Connor O’Malley was the most interesting person he’d met, so how couldn’t he be linked to his most interesting case?


	4. Luck O' the Irish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Opis has a new target: the ones investigating mob related violence.  
> So what? Not like Gemini should care, it's not like they're getting attached or anything.

“I didn’t have anything to do with it” was all Richard had to say about the disturbing, ruby stained message. Reed had pried, but gotten nothing more about it out of him.

R(What’s your first name?

He asked one day, which confused the Detective to an extent.

G(You got my phone number but not my first name?

R(Well I’m sure my guy who got it for me knows but I’m too lazy to ask

G(Wow

G(Gavin, it’s Gavin.

G(Do I get to know your last name?

R(Thats a nice name

R(No lol why would I tell you that

R(Hey we should play a game

G(Like what, how long can I hide from the serial killer?

R(Ha ha

R(I meant something like would you rather

R(I’m not a psychopath

R(Well not entirely lol ;P

G(Okay, then what do you want to play.

R(Let’s play What if

R(Basically one of us invents a scenario and the other says what they would do in said scenario

G(Alright, I’ll go first.

G(What if you stopped killing people?

R(Lmaooooo

R(I’d be broke

R(What if you stopped trying to catch me

G(I’d lose my job

G(What if I arrested you

R(Usually I’m not the one in handcuffs but hey there’s a first time for everything, amiright? ;)

R(You don’t ask very fun questions :(

G(Fine.

G(You find yourself in a room surrounded by nothing but emptiness, you can’t speak, and you can’t move. What do you do?

R(Woah! Outstanding, you actually DO have an imagination ;P

R(I’d probably take a nap tbh

G(Mood

R(You know, you might be trying to catch and arrest me, but you’re kinda not an uptight asshole y’know

G(It’s just because I’m bored 99.9% of the time and I have no friends

R(I’ll be your friend!

G(Absolutely not.

It wouldn’t be a lie to say that Reed panicked as he became self aware of the smile on his face. He couldn’t let himself enjoy it- yes he was bored, and yes it was entertaining, but he was basically just undercover trying to get closer to the enemy until he could lure him in. That’s exactly what it was, he certainly wasn’t having any fun. None at all.  
It was a relaxing Saturday, Gavin slid around his house in fluffy socks and watered his plants, phone in hand the whole way. He sent a few pictures of said plants to Richard, mostly because he didn’t immediately stop talking to him because of it, usually people couldn’t give less of a shit about the stuff he liked. Sometimes he’d even text him little remarks such as:

R(I like the deep red color of the Geranium, and the way it hangs is pretty neat too

G(Thanks, I try to keep it alive the best I can.

At this point, Gavin couldn’t care less who he was talking to, as long as he appreciated his plants. He gave his cats food and scratches behind the ears before, par for the course, making a cup of coffee. He slid over to his window seat, surrounded by his plant children. He rested his head against the cold glass, gazing outside at the calming snowfall. The powdered ground made his backyard look surreal, like it was an entirely different world outside. Sure he saw something like it every year, but that made it no less beautiful to him.

G(Do you like snow?

R(Depends :/

R(I think its very majestic, and a stunning sight

R(It’s also fun to play in

R(But when you’re trying to commit a crime, i.e. kill someone, it makes things difficult

R(Footprints, blood is super obvious, you know- the works

G(Good to know you’re less likely to commit a crime in snow.

R(I didn’t say that

R(I just said it’s difficult ;)

Reed really wasn’t startled, he didn’t really expect any else from a mob boss. They’d been texting for about two days, he’d already gotten used to the violent innuendoes and winky faces. If you were to ask Gavin if he thought they were friends, he’d truthfully give you a solid “No.” He was a cop, and he certainly hadn’t forgotten who he was texting, it’s just that there wasn’t really a better alternative. Technology had advanced far from when he was a kid, tracking devices via number was a process that only worked with the older phones and newer tech. He was going to go out on a limb and say that there was no way this rich mob boss had a phone from 2021.

R(You always say you don’t have any friends, but there is a girl at work that is obviously into you, why don’t you make a move?

G(I don’t have time for a relationship.

R(Says the man texting the person he’s supposed to hate bc he has nothing better to do

G(Touché.

He sat for a moment and wondered how he should approach the situation. She was clumsy, and kind of shy from what he could tell. Not exactly his type, but how would he know if he didn’t try?

G(I don’t even know her name.

R(Nina Montgomery

G(Seriously? You just had that information at the ready?

R(Yeah

G(K.

G(How do you ask someone out?

R(Have you never been in a relationship in your life?

G(Twice, in high school.

R(Dude you’re 36. You’re literally the same age as me. And you’re telling me you’ve had two relationships like twenty years ago?

G(It sounds way longer when you put it that way.

G(Wait so you’re the same age as Connor O’Malley?

R(Who?

R(Anyways, please tell me they at least lasted a while.

G(Maximum was a month.

R(You’re a disaster.

G(I know.

R(Alright, just ask her if she wants to go for a cup of coffee sometime. Then, if and when she says yes, and you’re actually on the date, learn about her, ask her about herself, and find out whether or not you two enjoy similar things.

G(It’s at this point I realize I’m taking relationship advice from a professional murderer.

R(You say things like that, but you never do anything about it.

G(You got me there.

Gavin gave a soft chuckle and set his phone down next to him, taking a sip of coffee and turning his attention back to the icy majesty outside. He actually felt content for the first time in a long while, nothing felt…missing. He had his plants, his cats, a beautiful scene before him, and someone to talk to, despite who that someone was. He was happy with his Saturday, nothing could change that. Nothing.

———

When his boss called him around eleven that night though, that wasn’t pleasant. He told Reed that a resident of an apartment on the edge of town had seen a group of “shady people” and that they were unsure who they were or what they were doing there. He forced himself out of bed, grabbing his badge and his gun from his nightstand. He slammed his car door shut behind him and let out a sharp breath, watching in hang in the air. He whipped out his phone, and sent a quick text to Richard.

G(I just got reports of shady people on the west outskirts, don’t kill me?

He knew he shouldn’t trust him, no matter what his response was, but he let himself try. He didn’t really abide by the speed limit, it was late and the roads were icy. He went faster down straightaways and carefully slow around corners, but there was a surprising lack of traffic, even for that time of night. He pulled into the small, quiet neighborhood to find a familiar car already parked there. He pushed his way out of his own, approaching the other. He gave a soft knock on the window and his partner opened his door to get out. The two of them nodded silently and drew their guns, treading softly along the snow covered roads were the plows didn’t bother to come. He jumped when his phone vibrated in his pocket, and his stomach dropped as he read the message that it had signaled.

R(Not us. Watch your step.

He tapped away to the specifics that his boss had sent him in a text, directing him and Anderson to the very edge of town, to a small group of buildings that looked like they’d been empty for years. He’d be damned if there were any “concerned residents” there. Just then he caught sight of shallow footprints in the ground, good few of them. He signaled his partner to stay behind him as they followed the footprints down the street to an alleyway. He cautiously turned on his flashlight and shone it down the dead end path. There was nothing to be seen but dumpsters, but that didn’t mean there was nothing else there. The two of them strode nearly silently on the snow covered ground further into the alley when they heard something behind them.

“So you’re the two pricks assigned to mob related violence,” said a strange voice, “we’ve been looking for you.” The partners turned to face five submachine gun wielding, suit wearing ruffians. They were dressed in white from head to toe with a bit of black detailing, brandishing boastful sneers.

  
“Opis, I take it.” Anderson spoke slowly and cautiously. The mobsters seemed pleased at the recognition.

  
“Glad to know we’ve already made a name for ourselves,” the same one who had spoken before spat, “but I’m afraid, boys, that we’re going to keep our good gig going- which means getting rid of you two.” They raised their guns, taking aim. Suppressers, they really don’t want to get caught. Reed’s thought was barely over before the sickening crack of gunfire echoed through the alleyway. He tensed up, his eyes squeezed shut, preparing to feel the exploding metal shards ripping through him. But, to his luck, they only pain he felt was the ringing in his ears. He opened his eyes in shock, staring back to the entrance of the alleyway, where the five Opis members now lay on the ground, their hot blood running through the snow like a molten river. Where they once were, two new figures stood. They were dressed like they just got out of bed, sweatshirts thrown on loosely and slides on their feet. He blinked repeatedly, desperate for his eyes to adjust to the dark. He managed to make out a face he found all too familiar as of late. Brunette, curly-haired Connor O’Malley. "I’m shocked," He thought to himself sarcastically as he turned his attention to the other figure. He had hair far straighter than Connor’s but their faces…they were identical.

  
“What the hell…?” His partner spoke before he could even conjure the words. Like clockwork, Connor’s face lit up and he gave them a bright smile and an ecstatic wave.  
“Hi Lieutenant! You okay? These guys are a real nuisance.” Gavin immediately turned his attention back to the other man before them, who gave him a tired smile,

  
“Gavin.” Oh, okay. The best way to describe Reed’s emotion at that point is quite honestly: Thanks! I hate it.

  
“Nope.” He responded, otherwise lost for words. This is some evil twin cliché straight out of a movie. This was it, this was the number one weirdest thing to ever happen to him. It beat whatever was above texting a mob boss. The ground felt like it was spinning beneath him, he struggled to keep himself upright. The longer he stared at the two of them, the more he realized the one with straight hair had stunning blue eyes in contrast to Connor’s deep brown ones. He took another breath in an attempt not to pass out, steadying himself on his own two feet.

  
“Sorry about the trouble guys, Opis has been nothing but trouble since they showed up.” Connor gave them another sweet, sympathetic smile. Anderson was the next to speak, cutting Connor off before he could continue.

  
“Why did you…” his face presented nothing but confusion, maybe irritation. “…why did you save us?” Connor tilted his head curiously, he seriously was comparable to a puppy. His smile alone was practically lighting up the alleyway.

  
“We already owed our lives to you, Lieutenant. After all, if you hadn’t knocked on our door, we would have made it to the meeting right on time to walk into an ambush.” Oh, the mobster HAD said their boss never showed. “As for your partner,” he continued, “my brother here insisted that he didn’t want any harm to come to him, so I guess we kinda killed two birds with one stone: saved you guys, and got rid of a small portion of our latest problem.” He and his partner stared at them blankly, unsure what to do. Anderson continued doing the thing he does best, asking questions.

  
“How did you know where we were? You live miles from here.” He asked, gazing at them skeptically. The blue eyed one interrupted his eccentric partner and answered the question himself.

  
“Gavin texted me.” He said simply, crossing his arms to ward off the cold, bouncing up and down a little bit in place. Anderson shot Reed a sharp questioning look, seemingly unsure what to make of the answer, so he kept asking questions.

  
“Reed, what the hell does he mean you texted him, you’ve had contact with them?” Gavin opened his mouth to explain, he had hoped no one would ever actually find out about that. Before he tripped over his own words until it made less sense than it began with, the one he could now only assume was Richard answered that as well.

  
“It’s a long story, one I imagine can be told somewhere less freezing. I got out of bed for this, I really don’t feel like standing here.” As they nonchalantly turned to leave, Connor spun back around to face them, a new look of uncertainty showed on his face.

  
“You guys, you aren’t gonna call this in, right? I mean, we did kinda save your lives. Like, if you ever catch us again, cool, thats fair, but we specifically traveled all this way so you wouldn’t end up like them, sooooo…” Gavin looked to his partner for an answer, he knew what he himself was in favor of, but he needed confirmation from the other man. Anderson paused for a moment, lost in thought. He looked bitter, but gave his partner a slow nod. Reed turned back to Connor,

  
“No. Not this time, you have our word.” Satisfied, Connor turned and trailed behind his brother. Gavin was quiet, pondering if he should try to speak. After arguing internally with himself for a moment, he spoke.

  
“Richard,” he called, gaining the blue eyed brother’s attention, “…thanks.” The man smiled, some look in his eye that Reed couldn’t hope to identify. Richard gave him an ironic salute, then called back to him,

  
“If you send me more pictures of your plants, I might even do it again.”


	5. Gemini

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glance into the POVs of the O'Malleys.  
> Did they do the right thing?

The two of them sat in silence across from each other, munching on whatever they had in the cupboards. They both had something to say, but neither wanted to start. The crunching of chips became an unbearable filler.

  
“Did we do the right thing?” One of them finally asked, looking the other in the eye. It was strange, the state they were in. Like they weren’t actually sure which one of them said it, because they were both thinking it. They felt a new sort of numbness in their minds, like they were devoid of…everything. The other answered the question he was fairly certain the man sitting opposite to him had asked, and not himself.

  
“I don’t know,” he mused, running his fingers through his hair, “do you think they would have done the same for us?” The other dipped a potato chip in some sour cream, observing it blankly rather than eating it. He seemed to be pondering the question, but in truth he knew exactly how he saw it.

  
“Why would they? We’re their mission, easier to let someone else do the dirty work.” They fell silent again, unsure what to do. In all honesty they were shaken, their defense, the secret they kept for so long, out simply because they didn’t think things through.

  
“What if they were lying, Con. We shouldn’t have trusted them not to turn us in, they’re police officers. Their duty isn’t to honor the deals they make, it’s to hunt people like us down, and make sure we end up behind bars.” His brother frowned at him with an appalled expression in his eyes.

  
“Sorry if I’m not recalling correctly, but wasn’t it you that was screaming at me to wake up? Wasn’t it you that was so desperate to save your pen pal that you couldn’t be bothered to come up with anything but a lazy massacre? You outted us, and if they turn us in, you get to take responsibility.” Connor’s usually cheery attitude wasn’t present, his brother didn’t get to complain about whether or not they were turned in, it was his fault. Richard wasn’t having it.

  
“You say that shit like you wouldn’t have done the same had your old man contacted you.” If looks could kill. Richard saw the dark, homicidal impulse burning in his brother’s eyes, not that he didn’t see it often. Connor didn’t have a response, as much as he desperately wanted to. He clawed for something to say, his face heating up in annoyance. The problem was that his brother was right, he would have- even though it’s not like he actually had a way to contact the Lieutenant anyways.

  
“Leave me alone, Rich.” His voice broke as he pushed his chair away from the table a little harder than he’d meant to do. He tripped over himself, stumbling up the stairs as he stormed away. He could hear his brother’s perturbed scoff from the table.

  
“Jesus Connor, are you a mob boss or a crybaby that throws a tantrum whenever you and someone don't see things eye to eye?” Connor didn’t answer and continued up and away from the dining room. He practically threw himself through his bedroom door, slamming it behind him. He ducked under the red strings that crisscrossed his room and flopped down onto his bed, messily throwing the covers over him. He laid there, blankly staring at his ceiling, shifting around restlessly. He rolled over, gazing through the crystal clear floor to ceiling window. He had to squint to let his eyes adjust to the pristine layer of white that covered the sagging branches of trees and the slanted rooftops of the neighboring houses. Through the rapidly falling flakes, he could see smoke drifting from the rustic chimneys. There was a soft, colorful hue, just out of sight, from Christmas lights soon to be taken down. It illuminated the small gaps in the branches of the tall fir trees that towered over the ground below. Connor stared at the undeniably stunning scene, unsure for how long. He didn’t notice his bitterness fade as he watched the flakes, he was too lost in the wonder of it. Snow had always been one his favorite things, his siblings always built snowmen with him and his brother when they were little. He looked back fondly on snowball fights and cocoa, everything a child could need in the winter. It was things like that, the joy that was brought to him, that made it easy to forget he’d had so little. He sat up, shoving the covers off of him. He wandered over to his wall, painted over with a well detailed map of the area. The streets of the city painted in grey, labeled in little white letters, were littered with holes where push pins had once held red strings in place. Around the rest of his room was printed out articles, hacked criminal records, and other various forms of collected evidence. The red yarn was stuck in one place or another, connecting together reports of places and activities to avoid, as well as any Opis activity. He took and pen and a pad of sticky notes, scribbling a little bit to get the red ink working. He scratched down the most recent location of Opis and their intentions, sticking it to the dead end street where he and his brother slaughtered a small group of their adversaries. He took his red ball of yarn from his desk drawer and a discarded push pin that was lying around near his lamp, attaching the yarn to the sticky note. He carefully unraveled it as he made his way across his room, slipping through the other strings with ease. He’d been living with it for years, if he hadn’t memorized every string at this point, he’d have strangled himself on them. He pulled a chair from another desk and stepped onto it so he could reach higher. He leaned over and grabbed another push pin from a large plastic container of them on the desk. The sticky note he was attempting to reach was the highest of all the others in the room, because it was the most important, but still new, so he needed to be able to find it easily. On it was a single word: North. He made sure the string was tight and pinned the yarn into the sticky note- he was practically already out of room on it. He cut off the excess and started yet another line from the same note. He repeated his process back to another wall full of information regarding his and his people’s own activities. There he found the picture of partners Gavin Reed and Hank Anderson, where he stuck the other end of the yarn. Finally he connected them to the alleyway. He gave an exasperated sigh and walked to his closet and found the warmest sweater he owned and pulled it on, glancing back at the heavy snow outside. He wasn’t inclined to freeze to death out there. The decision to also take a jacket was promptly made. He quickly padded down the stairs, stopping to glance at his brother, who was in the living room doing something on his iPad. Rich didn’t even glance up at him, and Connor felt his stomach twist in shame. He knew he was childish, he really did, and he knew he had no intention of changing that- but he knew his brother was right, and knew he should apologize. But Connor, despite being a perfectly charismatic liar, was horrible with words. Especially when they’re genuine. He strode into the kitchen and tried to find a way to say sorry without words. Richard finally glanced up at him as he approached, mug in hand. He set it down on the coffee table, his brother glanced down at the cup and the words on the sticky note attached to it. He didn’t have time to say anything before Connor was closing the front door behind him.

  
‘Sorry’, said the sticky note. Richard picked up the mug and took a sip. Hot Chocolate. "He truly must be twelve years old," he thought appreciatively. He leaned back into his seat and kept scrolling the news.  
No report of mob activity since the ambush.  
Maybe they were going to be okay.

  
———

  
Connor tried to keep the door from slamming in the blizzard-like wind, but he severely underestimated how strong the snowstorm actually was. The door smacked him on his way into the kitchen, slamming back into it’s frame, and thus alerting absolutely everyone that he’d arrived. A wisened old woman hobbled over to him and helped him with his coat, smiling delightedly up at him.

  
“Connor!” She beamed, holding his hands affectionately, “We didn’t realize you were coming in today!” She dramatically let go of his hands and scowled at him. “You’re freezing, did you hike here or something?” Connor smiled at her and took her hand back, squeezing it sweetly.

  
“Of course not, Candace. It’s just very cold outside, and the parking lots were packed, I had to walk a couple blocks to get here.” She returned his smile and turned back to the food she was preparing, she tended to the bread maker, adding in the yeast. Connor took an apron and tied it on, making his way over to another frail looking elder, helping her with some dishes.

  
“What are you guys cooking today?” He asked cheerily. His mood was always improved around his fellow volunteers. The woman opened her mouth to answer but quickly moved past him to grab the arm of another elder, her husband.

  
“Paprika, not Sriracha, you stewed prune.” He nodded, as though snapping back into reality and he dug through the seasoning cupboard for the correct spice. The woman’s attention returned to Connor, who’d giggled at the altercation. “Well, we have chicken noodle, tomato, beef and vegetable stew, and some fresh bread.” Connor looked around for the first time to truly notice how much was being made at once.

  
“Ah, the snowstorms bringing in a lot of business?” He asked. She nodded, confirming his assumption. There were a lot of people on the streets, these days- sadly, many of them were elderly. Their retirement funds didn’t last them.

  
“Poor, poor, people.” She murmured sadly, “They’re all trying to escape a cold fate, the least we can do is feed them something nice and warm.” She gave Connor a soft smile, “We’re very glad you’re here today, we could really use the extra hand.” He nodded and got to work, preparing the ingredients for a nice, warm pot of chili.  
There was more to Connor than the blood on his hands.  
At least thats what he tried to keep telling himself.


	6. The Terrifying Faith One Must Have in Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is it that Richard thinks when he's texting Gavin?  
> Is he scared?  
> Or is he playing him like a fiddle?

G(Why?

The text came midday, the snow seemed to be at it’s worst. Truthfully, Richard had been waiting for him to say something all day, fearful that he may not. He was relieved that his phone finally buzzed with the notification of a message.

R(Why not?

G(Because we’re on two different sides.

R(Oh please, it’s the same story

G(So? Why would that give you any less incentive to kill me?

R(Because I like your plants

R(And your cats

R(And you

G(Why? Do you seriously not have anything better to do than text the guy who is going to arrest you eventually?

R(Eventually? So you really aren’t turning us in?

G(Not yet.

R(Well then I’m thankful for that

G(Don’t be. We know how you work, and when we inevitably catch and arrest one or both of you, you probably won’t like me all that much.

R(I sense a fear of commitment

G(You are as dumb as bricks.

R(And?

G(And so I’ll keep talking to you because you like my plants, cats, and I.

Richard grinned. He did genuinely find what Gavin had to share with him entertaining, and he had always had an interest in plants. He knew the detective believed that he was just trying to reel him in for slaughter, but at least that didn’t stop the cop from talking to him. It’d been a long time since he’d met someone new and could genuinely be himself. Connor was the real one, the public persona. Rich was the one who could get away with killing people in the middle of the day and no one would question a thing. Especially not since he was “off doing community service” somewhere. He’d tried to be the usual one for once, but ended up giving himself a criminal record.

R(What’s your favorite food?

G(Anything Thai.

R(Noted

G(Why?

R(Because I can

G(Your eyes are a different color from Connor’s, otherwise you two look identical. Contacts?

R(Natural, the only reason I wear contacts is to go out in public so I look like Connor

G(Neat.

What a nerd.

R(Do you trust me?

G(No.

G(Do you trust me?

R(No

G(Glad that’s been cleared up. Peppermint is sleeping on her back for some reason and her tummy is all round because she ate a lot, want to see?

R(Duh


	7. Venom (No not the Marvel character you nerds) (((((Don't worry I'm a nerd too)))))

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a bad idea, going there.  
> But trust,  
> trust in what you need to put your faith in.

Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea, going there. Most roads were closed until they could be plowed, and they almost got stuck multiple times. That, of course, wasn’t the reason why they shouldn’t be going where they were. They trudged throw the freezing wind and inconveniently deep snow up to the door, ringing the doorbell to avoid breaking their frozen hands knocking on the door. They could hear footsteps approaching, after a moment, the knob turned and Connor answered them with a surprisingly forced-looking smile.

  
“This…this doesn’t count, right? We’re technically not doing anything.” He stopped trying to force a smile, a mildly panicked look sweeping across his face. He shuddered from the cold, giving them a disapproving look. Reed looked to his partner for an answer, it had been his idea after all. Anderson shook his head, a reluctant expression still in his eyes.

  
“No, we just want to talk to the two of you. Can we come in? You seem cold holding the door open.” There was now hesitation mixed with the panicked expression that was plastered before them. It seemed like he was going over every outcome that could possibly occur, because they were there for a little while. He finally gave them a slow nod and stepped aside to let them in. And it was a bad idea. Gavin knew it. As they stepped inside, warm air rushed over them. A good heating system, Reed supposed. His gaze wandered from the kitchen to the living room, where eyes lingered on Richard, who was sitting upside-down on his sofa and scrolling through something on his iPad. He didn’t bother to look away when the killer returned his gaze, he knew him. He shouldn’t. But he did. For identical twins, it was easy to tell which was which when they were side by side. Connor’s hair was messy and curly, and he had plain brown eyes. Richard’s hair was straightened, and his eyes were blue. Really, really blue. It wasn’t a deep ocean blue, but more like a beautiful pale sky. Other than that, the two of them looked exactly the same. Richard flipped upright in one swift movement, approaching the two of them and his brother. It was uncomfortable, the four of them just standing there, silent. Connor broke the silence, obviously aware of the discomfort.

  
“You said you wanted to talk to us,” his voice broke a little, his fears shining through. He cleared his throat, “Please, sit down,” he suggested, gesturing towards the two sofas in the living room that faced one another. His partner nodded, but Gavin interrupted before they could start making their way over.

  
“Can I talk to your brother,” he addressed Connor, because he’d seemed to be the one making the decisions, “alone?” Richard raised his eyebrows slightly, but shrugged. He walked over to the kitchen and took a seat, Gavin following suit. Hank, on the other hand, was left to go sit in the living room with Connor. Connor seemed pleased to be speaking with him, despite the earlier worry. He was silent, though, waiting for the Lieutenant to speak. Hank had completely forgotten what he was going to ask. Connor seemed to realize this and took over, pulling his legs into a criss-cross position, dead in the middle of the couch.

  
“What’s it like, being a cop?” He tilted his head, something the Lieutenant had noticed he did when he was curious, or pretending to be confused. He was a little bit taken aback by the question, it certainly wasn’t what he’d come to discuss, but everything else had slipped his mind. He didn’t answer, unsure what the young man was playing at. Connor continued cheerily,

  
“I thought about being a cop when I was little, I always liked the idea of helping people, taking down bad guys, the works. It just seems like there are too many restrictions, you know? Being freelance is certainly a lot more… freeing.” Hank scoffed, not convinced at the idea that this guy had once wanted to become a cop.  
“Freelance? That’s what you call random, sporadic murders?” Connor suddenly looked confused as though Anderson was missing something obvious. He gave a soft, if not astonished giggle.

  
“Random? With all due respect Lieutenant, despite your dedication in solving your case, you didn’t really look at the victims backgrounds did you? Those people were walking scum, abusers, neglecters, twisted people. They got what they deserved.” His voice was passionate, Hank could tell that every word from his mouth was felt beneath the skin.

  
“They deserved to go to jail, not be punished by death.” Anderson retorted, his voice was sharper than he’d meant it to be. The look in Connor’s eyes was one he didn’t recognize, it was something he could almost call disgust.

  
“So what, they could go sit in a cell for less than a year, pay a few dollars, and go on about their business? The people they affected aren’t as easily repaired, mentally or physically.” His voice calmed, the expression in his eyes returned to what seemed to be neutral. “Maybe they don’t deserve death,” he huffed, shaking his head sadly, “but there isn’t much of anything between far less than they deserve and that.” Anderson wouldn’t deny he understood where the mobster was coming from, but the logic wasn’t sound.

  
“No sane person could do what you do without feeling guilty to some extent.” He paused and eyed the other man up and down. “You enjoy it. One of the things that always bothered me was the vibe I got off of you. Bloodlust. But of course I could never present an argument on a bad feeling.” Connor’s expression remained neutral, Anderson had never seen him as anything other than cheery and charismatic. Not only was this attitude unsettling, but it gave him chills down his spine. It was too unusual.

  
“And? I don’t murder whoever, whenever.” His gaze hardened a tone slipped into his voice that was wildly unfamiliar. “You are right, however. I like watching the blood drip from their lifeless bodies, I crave the sound of their dying breaths. I love causing it. I love sinking a knife into their flesh, slitting wrists, slitting throats. I also love hearing the ring of the gunshot as I put a bullet into their heads. I suppose it depends on my mood.” Hank was shaken, though he did a good job of keeping his composure. He knew he’d been right about the sickening side of the man before him. He tried to make sure his voice was to be steady before he spoke.

  
“Tell me this, O’Malley,” he rasped, unable to stabilize the unrest in his voice, “I’m in your way, the enemy, trying to take you down. But you don’t want to kill me, or you would have let Opis do it for you. Do you want to watch me bleed?” Connor’s expression remained neutral, cold, but his eyes were conflicted. For such a good liar, he was lost in the moment. He finally let his face fall into a defeated frown, his eyes softer.

  
“No.”  
———  
Gavin took a seat at the surprisingly modestly sized dining table, sitting across from Richard. He wasn’t sure what to say, he never really had a plan. He’d spoken to him before, quite a lot, but this time he wasn’t just texting him cute pictures of his cats. He was face to face with a cold blooded killer.

  
“You’re far less hostile over text,” Richard commented, resting his head in his arms and looking up at the Detective, he had a puppy-dog look similar to his twin’s, but the blue eyes made it more enchanting than cute. Reed gave him a confused scrunch of his face,

  
“I haven’t even said anything, how am I more hostile?” Richard sat back up, resting on his elbows.

  
“Maybe it’s exactly that. You usually have a lot to say.” They sat in silence for a moment, just staring at each other, their expressions unchanging. Gavin’s eyes flicked across the other man’s face, looking for something else that he couldn’t find.

  
“I suppose I feel like I’m talking to someone else. I don’t have any plants or cats to present.”

  
Richard gave him a small smile, his absently twitched his lips around, an expression comparable to Connor’s head tilt.

  
“There’s still you.” He stated, regarding the reasons he’d provided for not killing him. “Are you afraid of me?” The Detective remained unfazed by the questions, answering honestly.

  
“To an extent, but I really am curious,” this stopped Richard from continuing, “if you’re telling the truth. Did you choose to save me because I entertain you? Because you get bored? You’ve got more money than you should know what to do with. Why not just find something else to do?” Richard leaned back in his chair, his straight hair falling across his forehead.

  
“Material items can’t measure up to social contact. Sure, I have my guys, but fear and respect don’t make friendship.” He glanced over to Connor in the living room, “My siblings are good company, but imagine having to spend your whole life with no one but them.” Gavin couldn’t imagine it. Quite literally. He didn’t have siblings, so he couldn’t understand.

  
“You don’t really fear me, do you though? You fear the vulnerable position you’ve put yourself in, especially against someone far stronger than you, you fear the situation. But you don’t fear me, nor do you respect me. So why don’t you just arrest me?”

  
Gavin didn’t understand his own reasoning as to why he didn’t, or maybe he just didn’t want to admit it. The words spoken from the murderer before him had seemed far more comforting than had been intended.

  
“I don’t know.” He replied simply. It was the only answer he allowed himself to believe. Sadly, the man across from him saw through it like glass. Richard leaned back forward in his seat, once again resting on his elbows.

  
“Yes you do,” he stated confidently, “Gavin Reed, you are alone. You live with two cats and some plants, and from what we’ve found? You don’t have many close connections either. Everyone needs it, to an extent. It’s human nature, we’re social creatures. You have your partner of course, but it’s not like you get along famously.” Gavin hated where this was going, stung by the truth of every word. He’d unconsciously clenched his jaw, unnerved by his own reaction. And then he said it. The killer said what he knew to be true.

  
“I,” the mobster continued, the words coming out like somewhere between boastful and sympathetic, “am your closest thing to a friend.”

  
“Please, I’m not that desperate,” he snarled just a bit too quickly. His defensive tone brought the pride of being correct to Richard’s eyes, still locked with his own. He watched the edge of O’Malley’s mouth pull upwards into a smirk, just for a second. Once again there was silence, Reed dropped his gaze, unable to bear the stabbing pain that came with the one thing he didn’t want to believe.

  
“You want a cup of coffee or something?” Richard asked suddenly, causing the Detective to whip his gaze back upwards now glaring at him.

  
“Why? So you can poison me?” Richard gave him one of those ‘seriously?’ looks. He stood up, pushing his chair back under the table. He nodded his head towards the kitchen, which was surprisingly the same, open room.

  
“If you’re so worried, you can watch me make it.” Gavin contemplated this for a moment, the same glare still present on his face. Without a word, he reluctantly scooted his chair back and stood up, and followed the other man to the other side of the kitchen. There were cupboards lining the walls, probably filled with rare ingredients. Richard opened one near the end and pulled out a packet, presenting it to Reed exaggeratedly, showing him every bit of it. Gavin rolled his eyes and Richard moved over so the Detective could get a clear view of the coffee maker. The opened it with the tips of his fingers and placed the packet inside dramatically. He handed Gavin a mug and let him look at it to make sure it didn’t have anything hidden in it.

  
“Okay, okay I get it.” He said, putting it under the machine’s output and pressing brew. Richard giggled, his eyes did the same squinty thing as Connor’s.

  
“See? Not poisoning you,” he reaffirmed, amused. Gavin forced down any positive emotion making its way to his face. This man was not his friend. This man was a murderer. This man was a criminal. This man was not his friend. They walked back over to the dining table and sat down, Reed set the mug down to let the coffee cool. His faced scrunched a little bit, he was trying so hard to figure Richard out. He didn’t seem like a murderer, monster. In fact, he’d only ever been kind to Gavin, which was even more unnerving. He lightly tapped his fingers on the table, the silence was deafening.

  
“Why?” The question finally came, the Detective couldn’t figure it out on his own. “Wasn’t there some other, better choice than this?” The other man’s eyebrows flew up in surprise, as if he’d expected Reed to just continue to sit in awkward silence. Richard was quiet for a moment, he looked like he was thinking.

  
“As you can probably tell due to the lack of twin birth certificates, legally only one of us exists. According to my siblings, Connor is a few minutes older than me, and I wasn’t exactly supposed to happen.” His expression was somber, but his voice remained unshaken. “Our parents, not that we knew them, were very religious. Crazy religious. No birth control, not even any ultrasounds, which I’m not even sure is part of religion. So she was expecting one child, and she got one, she pushed through. Then, she got another one. Me, apparently.” He paused for a moment, not quite contemplating or thinking, but like he was unsure if he should continue. He did. “She didn’t make it. My father had already left for the registrar, because there weren’t exactly any doctors around to give them a birth certificate at home. My oldest sister was fourteen at the time, but still too young to understand what to do. Apparently our father had already instructed she and my other siblings watch over me and take care of our mother, but I came along.” Reed didn’t speak, he was too focused on the story to interrupt. He couldn’t be sure whether the words being said are lies or the truth, but either way it was intriguing. “When my father returned home, he was enraged, according to my big brother, he tried to take me from Chloe-” he paused to clarify, “My oldest sister, to kill me. She wouldn’t let him, so he started chasing her, and our siblings took Connor and ran with her.” He paused again, his somber expression brightening a little, “Just so you know, this is just how my siblings told it to us. I have no idea what actually happened, or if they’re telling the truth. Anyways, apparently they ran to our uncle’s house, darting across the highway, which I’m not sure I believe. They say our father was hit and killed by a truck.” He gave a short huff, signaling the end of the story. “Or maybe it’s just the way I am,” he added, shrugging.

  
“I don’t see how that explains why you chose to murder people for a living,” Gavin took a sip of his coffee, watching the mobster expectantly.

  
“We made our own way. We wanted to help people but the existing laws didn’t exactly prompt us to do it like you do. As much as you try, you do very little, sometimes only suspending inevitable conflict. Death is forever.” He said it so simply, like he was just stating a fact. Whatever they went through as children after they escaped their parents changed them, but Reed didn’t dare ask.

  
“Anyways, enough about me, what about you?” The Detective was caught a bit off guard by the question, but he knew he should have been expecting it from someone as inquisitive as the blue eyed monster before him. His let his eyes drift to the window in the kitchen, the snow was just as heavy. He took a moment before he returned to looking the other man in the eye.

  
“What do you want to know?” Gavin took another slow sip, observing the thoughtfulness of the killer’s gaze.

  
“Why become a cop? You seem like the kind of person that just wants to sit down and drink coffee, read a book or something, yet your life never lacks for excitement.” It was a good question, and it was convenient that it was predictable as well, because Gavin had already prepared his answer.

  
“I get to save people without going through med school, and I get a gun. It’s no desk job, but I guess it’s kind of like living in a crime novel. It’s not relaxing, and it’s certainly not safe, but without people like us-” he nodded his head towards the living room, where Hank and Connor were talking, “-there would be no one to keep everyone else safe.” Richard nodded, approval showing on his face.

  
“Sounds fun,” he commented, his eyes suddenly lighting up in remembrance. “You know, Connor is the face of our existence. The two of us are very different, but you want to go out and try things eventually, you know? We were in college at one point, it was there I managed to actually give us a criminal record. We weren’t in this business at that point, our siblings had saved up a lot of money over the years to send “us” to college. At one point, we didn’t have a lot of food, so I tried to steal some from the local supermarket. Long story short I got caught, hence Connor’s criminal record.” Reed accidentally gave a soft chuckle when he remembered the quote from the file, immediately trying to play it off like nothing had happened. He coughed into his arm, but it was too late. He looked back up at Richard to find an awestruck smile across his face.

  
“I made you laugh.” The mobster didn’t suppress the grin on his face as he spoke, his eyes were more astonished than his smile. Gavin felt himself keeling over and dying inside, his stomach turning. He hated the obvious truth, the truth in which Richard was the person he felt the most comfortable with. Despite the circumstances of criminal and cop, the Detective may have felt the same disturbing feeling were they two normal people. It just happened way too quickly. He didn’t say anything, he just stared back down at the table, his ears were blocking out the world. Suddenly he felt tired, really tired. The sudden onset of exhaustion threw him in to a panic, he pushed his chair back and stood up, nearly tumbling over. The ground swayed beneath him, but he felt someone supporting him, holding his shoulders to keep him upright.

  
“I really like you, Detective,” came the strangely muffled voice, “but I can’t let you leave.”

  
———

  
The moment Connor realized what his brother had done was the same moment the Lieutenant jumped up and reached inside his jacket. With quickness of lightning O’Malley drew his gun and put it to Anderson’s head. Hank slowly pulled his arm out of his jacket, empty handed.

  
“You couldn’t have warned me?” Connor hissed at Richard across the room. Reed had collapsed in his brother’s arms, who was gently setting him down to lean against the wall. His twin turned his head to face him, wincing apologetically.

  
“Sorry, I didn’t know how to signal you without making it obvious. He would have figured out something was up.” Connor gave his brother an annoyed head shake and kept his gun trained on Anderson. The Lieutenant took a sharp breath before he spoke.

  
“What did you do to him?” A reasonable question.

  
“He’s fine, it was just Rohypnol. It’s basically just an edible tranquilizer,” Connor explained nonchalantly.

  
“First of all, I’m a cop. I know what Rohypnol is. Second of all, just Rohypnol? You roofied him, it’s going to have negative side-effects.” Connor understood his concern, but he didn’t exactly understand why the concern was only that Rohypnol was going to feel gross after the fact.

  
“You don’t seem concerned that we’re going to hurt you, I hope you haven’t developed a false sense of security,” he said coldly, pressing the gun against the back of Hank’s head.

  
“I’ve kind of just adopted the “if you were gonna kill us, you would have done it already” mindset. It’s easier that way.” There was silence as Richard approached him, brandishing a pair of handcuffs. Anderson defeatedly put his hands behind his back, flinching at the touch of the cold metal. The blue eyed brother reached inside of the Lieutenant’s jacket, removing his gun from its holster.

  
“I’m sorry about this, Lieutenant. My brother tends to be impulsive,” he glared at his brother as he lowered his gun, “there’s a very good reason that I’m the tactician. This isn’t the way I wanted this to turn out.” Richard had already heaved the Detective over his shoulder, now struggling his way up the stairs. Hank glanced back at Connor, who gestured him to follow. He complied, obviously well aware that even though the gun was down, didn’t mean it was gone. They reached two rooms across from each other, the doors ajar. It was neat inside, and looked unused. Connor had Anderson enter the one on the right, where as Richard took Gavin to the one on the left. O’Malley unlocked the handcuffs, gun at the ready, but the Lieutenant didn’t try anything. He went to leave the room before turning around,

  
“You don’t have anything alive at your house that needs to be taken care of, right?” Anderson was still standing in the middle of the room, observing his surroundings.  
“I have a dog.” Connor nodded, despite Hank’s back being turned towards him. He found himself hesitating before asking another question.

  
“What kind of dog?”

  
“Saint Bernard,” Hank answered, his voice sounded distracted. And so, Connor closed the thick door, locking it behind him, and stowing the key in his pocket.


	8. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin is waking up as usual...but somewhere unfamiliar.  
> But his cats are there so-

Gavin woke up as usual, one of his cats prodding his face, alerting him that it was hungry. Nothing seemed different besides the fact that he was sleeping in his clothes. That, of course, changed when he actually sat up and looked around. He recognized his plants here and there, some hanging some sitting around. There was a litter box in the corner of the unfamiliar room, and a couple of small cat bowls with a bag of food next to them. The room itself was about the size fo Reed’s living room, but it managed to contain a queen sized bed, two desks, a walk in closet, and what seemed to be a short hallway to a bathroom within the walk in closet. He scrambled out of bed, whipping his head around, trying to assess his situation. He wasn’t at home, but he wasn’t in a dungeon either, so that was a start. He noticed that there was light filtering through was he now identified as curtains. He rushed over to the large sheets covering a window, yanking them back. It was almost completely dark outside, he couldn’t be sure what time it was, either early morning or late afternoon. From what he could tell, the snow was still falling rapidly, which only made it harder for him to see. His mind shot back to what he last remembered. He’d been talking to Richard, who’d might have made him laugh? The picture of the event in his mind was blurred, the sound was muffled and almost mute. But, he knew where he was. He was in O’Malley’s house, probably a guest room or something. He would be far more panicked were his cats not there, and not being taken care of. He quietly over to the door, turning the metal handle until it stopped. The door didn’t budge. Suddenly, there was a voice from outside.

  
“I’m shocked trying to door wasn’t your first choice.” It was Richard. Or Connor. They sounded exactly the same. He thought it was pretty safe to assume that it was Richard.

  
“On the bright side, I no longer like or trust you.” There was silence from out in the hall, but he could hear him shifting, Gavin came to the conclusion that the brother’s back was on the door, and he was most likely sitting on the ground.

  
“I mean, I understand that you wouldn’t trust me after this, but you don’t even like me?” Is he…stupid?

  
“You roofied and kidnapped me. No, I don’t like you.” There was another, longer silence. Reed could hear the wind blowing the trees around outside while simultaneously dusting them with snow, leaving it in an endless, messy cycle. He’d taken a seat on the ground, his own back against the door. “Why?”

  
“You made it pretty clear that you were going to turn us in eventually. I’m sure you can understand that I can’t let you do that, given the fact we’d get life sentences.” There was a short pause, before he finally spoke again. “We aren’t sociopaths you know,” was his voice shaking? “We only kill the people who truly deserve it. We’re not using the Robin Hood excuse, because we obviously keep the money from the people we put in the ground, but like, we aren’t the 'murder a sweet old lady, or a puppy or kitten' kind of killers. That has to count for something, right?” Gavin didn’t respond, he just waited for Richard to continue. There was a sigh from outside the door.  
“And I didn’t kill you, we don’t kill cops, never have. Not that you aren’t more than that.”

  
“Then why am I in a fancy cage?” Reed growled, his head resting against the door as well now.

  
“Because I don’t want to rot in a cold cell, I don’t want that for my brother, and I don’t want that for the people we care about.” The silences in between statements were really starting to bother him. “This entire lifestyle is a cage, you know. We started this, and we don’t ever get to leave- not that I really want to. The point is, even if I wanted or needed to, I couldn’t. The moment there’s blood on your hands that isn’t supposed to be there, the moment you make personal gain from it, you don’t just stop. We knew where this path was going to take us, and we knew that it’s going to end with a couple bullets through our skulls, but we made the choice anyways, because we believe your laws aren’t fixing things as well as they could be.” Peppermint hopped up onto Gavin’s lap, prompting him to give her affection. The small, white kitty seemed unfazed by the change of environment, simply happy to be loved.

  
“What do you mean when you said ‘not that I’m not more than that’?” There was another deafening silence. Pumpkin also strolled up to get pet while Reed awaited a reply. He found himself grinding his teeth and digging his fingernails into the short carpet, the lack of sound made him unbelievably uneasy.

  
“I mean,” the voice replied, took him long enough, “I genuinely enjoy your company and hurting you isn’t exactly high on my list. I apologize for drugging and kidnapping you, but like I said, I like you. That doesn’t mean I trust you, a cop, not to arrest us.” He really seemed to enjoy stressing the point that he liked him, his words sounded genuine, and his actions aligned with the heavy lack of trust. It felt like truth, but Reed couldn’t let his guard down.

  
“How long are you going to keep us here, then? They’re going to notice we aren’t coming in.” Certainly their colleagues would start to doubt whatever excuse they’d been fed after a few days.

  
“For now, the two of you are home with the flu. I’ll be honest with you though, I’m not the planner, the tactician. When I drugged you, I was panicking. I tend to do that a lot. I know I shouldn’t have, but what else was I supposed to do? I didn’t have a plan, and we still don’t.” Why even bother to tell him something like that? Usually someone in power wouldn’t expose their own weakness, much less their lack of follow up plan.

  
“Thanks for bringing my cats and my plants.” Gavin disregarded the unexpected vulnerability, trying to push past it.

  
“Yeah,” Richard’s voice sounded more uplifted, “Of course. I like them too, didn’t want them to suffer because I can’t look before I leap.” From what the Detective could pull from the other man’s words, he seemed…regretful. Apologetic, almost.

  
“Are you always this self-deprecating?”

  
“Yeah, generally.” How…human, he seemed. Gavin rested his head against the door, something, some feeling, told him that Richard had been doing the same.  
“What time is it?” He asked, gazing once again outside the large window, observing how menacing the snow seemed at such proportions, the only way he could see it was the light radiating from the room itself. Outside it was otherwise pitch black.

  
“Two-ish,” he replied, “In the morning- but I imagine that was pretty easy to guess.”

  
“How did you know I was awake? It would seem like anyone with a single rational thought in their head would be asleep by now.” There was a long, exasperated sigh from the other side of the door.

  
“I think it’s fair to say I’ve been here for a while,” as he said it, the knowledge of how late- or rather how early it was, revealed hints of exhaustion. “I guess I didn’t want you to panic, or well, hate me. And I mean- I mean I totally understand why you would, I just didn’t want you to think anything bad was gonna happen. I wanted to explain myself, not that the truth is all the more pleasant than the alternatives. You’re still locked in there, no matter the intention.” A feeling of confusion twisted in Reed’s gut, his mind was wild with possible reasons he was being told any of this, why he was- was he actually apologizing? That wasn’t a question he would let go unanswered.

  
“Can I ask you a question?”

  
“Shoot.”

  
“This entire interaction is completely insane, and practically indecipherable. Are you apologizing?”

  
“Yeah, obvi-” he stopped himself, “…yeah, yeah I am,” came the the shaky response, “I thought it was obvious, sorry.” If nothing else, it was mildly uncharacteristic for a mob boss, even one that apparently only kills criminals. But it was something else, it was also something else entirely. Gavin was still confused about something, though.

  
“So, when are you going to let us go? I mean, so far you’ve got us out of work for a couple of days, locked us in rooms that don’t happen to be torture chambers, and, correct me if I’m wrong, you probably aren’t going to let us starve to death either. Besides not being able to leave, I’m not really seeing a downside, but like, I like my house.”

  
“I’m not sure what to do. If you weren’t going to turn us in before, I can only imagine what you’re going to do now. Like, okay, say you won’t turn us in, but if I trust you, you can just go do it anyways. We also can’t keep you away from work, outside communication, etcetera. We’re obviously not going to kill you, and we can’t keep you or let you go, we don’t actually have any options.” There was another silence, but its effects were dulled by the sound of trees moving, cracking into each other in the wind.

  
“Hey,” Gavin perked up, finding another subject, “you said Nina likes me, how can you tell? And don’t tell me it’s from exactly one time of her trying to be around me a little more than she needs to be, she’s new. It’s human nature to attempt to learn from others.”

  
“Oh no, it’s not that. Connor happened to be at Starbucks when she was there. He heard your name come up so he decided to listen in, considering you’re one of the people investigating us. She was talking to some friend of hers about how much she’s into this absolute unit of a guy, apparently she was talking about you like a you’re a god or something.” Gavin felt his face burning up with what he wasn’t sure was flattery or embarrassment, Nina had only been at their station for a couple of months, and they’d hardly ever spoken to one another. It was also the strange feeling of realizing that even when you aren’t around someone, they can still think about you, talk about you, and you’d never know. “You should ask her out sometime, she seems nice.” The words broke the Detective out of his thoughts, drop kicking him back into reality.

  
“I don’t really know anything about her,” he argued, unsure why he was reluctant.  
“Dude. What do you think dates are for? You should at least try, then maybe you won’t just have a couple of cats for company.” Okay, fair point.  
“Alright, yeah, when you let me out of here, I will.”

  
“Yeah, good.” Richard’s voice was groggy, he was obviously immensely tired.  
“Go to bed, I’m fine,” Reed stood up, forcing himself onto his feet.

  
“Yeah, alright. There’s some crap to do in there if you want, since you probably aren’t tired.” Gavin could hear as the other man outside the door started to walk away, but he had one last thing to say.

  
“Richard,” he could hear the footsteps doubling back a bit so he could hear.

  
“Yeah?”

  
“I like you too.”

  
———

  
Throughout the day, Connor had been popping in and out of Hank’s room, making sure he was comfortable, petting his dog, you know, as you do. Connor acted like he’d never held a gun to the Lieutenant’s head, finger on the trigger. Anderson was more overwhelmed by confusion than any other feeling, but angry was pretty high up there. Sure the room was nice, but he was trapped. Of course he’d love nothing more than to lay down and pet his dog all day, but he was more than mildly uncomfortable being locked inside the house of couple psychopaths. O’Malley constantly reminded him that he wasn’t in danger, but words were dust coming from the mouth of a liar. It seemed to be midday, though it was hard to tell with the dark, ice spewing clouds constantly above, when there was a voice, probably from downstairs, considering how muffled it was, that he didn’t recognize. It was a woman’s voice, he could tell that for certain, considering she’d been quite loud when she’d first entered. Her words probably rang out through the entire house,

  
“Boys! I’m hooooooooooooome!”

  
Whoever she was, she was very, very obnoxious. There was more chattering from downstairs, he could tell both brothers were there, mostly because they kept talking over each other. Hank was leaning against the door as the voices sounded like they were getting closer. Anderson tensed up, unsure what to do. Sumo wandered over, gazing at the door curiously. Luckily for the Lieutenant, Sumo was a well trained dog. Hank put a finger to his lips, signaling the Bernard to be quiet, and the good boy didn’t make a sound. He pressed his ear to the door, hoping to catch every bit of the conversation.

  
“…yeah, we know. Haven’t seen them for a few days, so that’s going well. Opis has been a bit of a bother, though.” It was one of the brothers.

  
“Well, I certainly hope you never encounter them face to face, Richard, your brother is the superior liar, that would also probably be the best in the case of these…Opis barbarians. You have to be careful.” Now that they were closer, Hank noticed that the woman’s voice sounded more matured than that of the brothers.

  
“We will, Chloe. It’ll be fine. Speed bumps aren’t stop signs.” He heard their footsteps pass, and a door clicking open and closed again. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, until suddenly he heard frantic footsteps on their way back towards his room. Suddenly the door opened, causing Hank to nearly jump out of his skin as he sprung backwards. Connor closed the door behind him quickly and let out a sigh of relief.

  
“Hey, sorry about that, but could you do me a favor?” He had that charismatic little smile, despite being out of breath.

  
“Excuse me?” Appalling, first he’s locked up, then the sadistic murderer that acts like a fluffy puppy comes tumbling in asking for a favor.

  
“Yeah, you’ve been doing good so far, but could you make sure you keep quiet? The big cheese is here.” Big cheese? Seriously? Hank had a disgusted look plastered across his face, but then more confusion struck.

  
“I thought you two were the big cheese,” he spat skeptically. Connor pursed his lips, leaning back against the door.

  
“We are, but it’s our big sister, she raised us. She’s practically our mom, so that pretty much makes her the boss of us, doesn’t mean she’s the boss of our little group. Anyways, please stay quiet? She- and everyone else for that matter- have no idea that you know our secret, much less that you’re actually here. We and most of my siblings put the rule that cops aren’t to be harmed into effect, she wasn’t one of them, I don’t want her convincing everyone else that you’re a threat.” He inhaled sharp breaths, trying to steady himself. “I have to go, Richard is stalling her.” He reached down in gave Sumo some head pats and scratched behind his ears.

  
“What about Reed?” Hank asked, concerned for his partner’s safety.

  
“Rich texted him, he locked his cats in the bathroom and all that.” Anderson had to do a double take, making sure he heard that right.

  
“Reed has his phone?”

  
“We cut off all communication except for my brother,” he gave Hank an annoyed glare, “now, like I said, I gotta go.” With that, he bolted out the door, and the Lieutenant could hear it lock behind him. So, there he was, still stuck in his room. He sat on his bed and gazed out the window, if nothing else, he could appreciate the beauty of the snow.

———

Throughout the day he could hear Chloe going up and down the halls, constantly conversing with one of the twins, never mind if they were upstairs or downstairs. Her shrill voice made it easy for her to communicate at practically any distance. Anderson was genuinely surprised that Sumo hadn’t started howling along, as he was very close to banging on the locked door and telling her to shut the hell up. As much as he wanted to, he avoided pacing in fear that he might make too much noise. He was also angry that he had to avoid making noise because of someone whom the twins could easily veto the murderous ideas. The room hank was stuck in was bland, generally undecorated. In a way, it reminded him of a bland, roadside motel room. Now, it wasn’t so unfamiliar, he didn’t really decorate his own house all that much, but it still felt unwelcoming. With nothing else to do, he sat, drowning in his own thoughts. Perhaps one of the reasons he was hardly ever comfortable in his own home is because he didn’t decorate it, because it couldn’t feel like home. Sadly, he couldn’t afford to spice up his home, make it more colorful. He scratched his beard, still laying on the bed, the sheets everywhere but on him. He was bored. For once, Hank didn’t want to sleep, he had nothing else to do, and nothing to eat at his disposal. Of course, there was a TV in the room, but he could turn it on because "Big Cheese" would hear it. He was getting real tired of this lady.

  
After what felt like an eternity, he realized wasn’t hearing constant screeching. He carefully stood and crept to the door, pressing his ear to it. There was a clicking sound from the other side that he’d become familiar with, and he stepped back as Connor stepped in. O’Malley pulled the door to a halt behind him, not careful to be quiet.

  
“I suppose that means she’s gone?” He asked, unable to keep the immense relief from his voice. Connor nodded, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. Hank noticed something interesting, different. The door was still slightly open. Of course, he wasn’t going to say anything about it, not yet, he still had things to ask.

  
“You put a gun to my head, you know.”

  
“You were about to pull your’s on my brother, I think we’re even.”

  
Anderson nodded thoughtfully. It wasn’t technically self defense, but he understood wanting to protect someone you love. Connor was silent for a moment, his deep brown eyes boring into the Lieutenant, almost as though pondering how his next actions would affect him.

  
“We can’t keep you here, and we can’t kill you. Our only choice is to let you go, and I’m sure that will be possible as soon as the roads are actually usable.” He gestured to the blizzard outside, still raging. “Not even the snow plows can get through, the snow must be three feet deep by now.” Hank gave him a blank stare, unsure how to react. He was free, but he still couldn’t leave, which meant that gave the brothers way too much time to change their minds.

  
“Do you ever get tired of pretending to be innocent? Going and volunteering, making food with old people?” Connor didn’t even look offended, it hardly seemed like he’d be surprised by Anderson’s questions anymore.

  
“I’m certainly not innocent, no, but I’m not pretending to enjoy that kind of thing. I love helping people, especially the less fortunate. Plus, the old ladies down at the soup kitchen are the sweetest, they’re a main source of positivity for me.” His charismatic smile was replaced by something far more genuine, the kind of excited smile someone gets when they talk about something they love.

  
“I’m never going to figure you out.” Hank sighed, defeated. Connor giggled, bringing his more charismatic smile back.  
“I’m not entirely certain why you still try.”

  
“What exactly am I supposed to do now, you know, considering I can’t leave?” Hank turned his attention back to the raging snowstorm outside, the flakes of ice were a blur. Connor grimaced, glancing down the stairwell.

  
“I guess you’re going to have to stay here, sorry about that. Don’t worry though, door stays unlocked- unless you like, pull a gun on one of us again, then the door is probably gonna stay locked.”

  
“As long as you don’t drug my partner…again,” Anderson huffed in agreement. Connor nodded and backed out of the room, keeping the door open as promised. Sumo lumbered over and barreled his way through the opening, out to sniff his new surroundings. Hank had consciously walked down the hall before, but he’d been too preoccupied pondering his fate. It was interestingly decorated, as instead of actual, normal lamps or ceiling lights, there were comfortingly orange icicle lights strung down the hall. The soft glow was far from unnerving, and it seemed appropriate for the season, considering the short distance from Christmas.

  
“What holiday do you celebrate?” Connor’s voice caught him off guard, he hadn’t realized he was still there. He turned to face the strangely kind mobster,  
“I don’t exactly celebrate any holiday religiously, but I tend to celebrate Christmas. If I have a reason.” O’Malley gave him an understanding smile, eyes drifting down the string of lights.

  
“Me too, I don’t exactly believe in anything. I think my brother has more existential doubts than I do, but neither of us are actually keen to follow rules written in a book that’s centuries old.” He paused, looking thoughtful, “I suppose I can understand how comfortable it can be to believe there is someone watching over you and the people you love, to believe that death isn’t the end, I can’t fault people for that,” his expression became bitter, “it’s when people start judging others, pushing them away because their beliefs tell them that it’s wrong, despite the entire outlook being immensely outdated.” Hank nodded in agreement, still in a state of wonder at Connor’s…agreeable outlook. He’d always seen murders as cold, vengeful, or overall psychotic, but… Connor was different, his brother seemed to think similarly as well.

  
“Anything in particular that bothers you?” He asked, acknowledging the other man’s apparent distress. Connor nodded, sighing a little.

  
“Misogyny, homophobia. The idea that those who want to live their life by their own code are sinners…it’s 2027, you’d think we as a race might have figured out our own bigotry by now.” His voice held something that wasn’t quite sorrow, and not quite resentment, but somewhere solidly in between. He seemed to push aside the feeling and returned to his more content state. “Who do you celebrate Christmas with?” Anderson’s face fell, the question he most resented had been asked.

  
“I don’t really celebrate it with anyone anymore. I don’t bother to decorate since nobody comes around, but I do bring gifts, just some small stuff, for my least annoying coworkers.” He suddenly came to a striking realization, “Where is Reed? You are letting both of us go, correct?” Connor shrugged, rolling his eyes.

  
“I think Rich is playing Super Smash Bros with him, I don’t know. Some Nintendo crap.” Hank was well aware that his mouth was hanging open a bit in surprise, but before he could say anything, as if on cue, there was yelling from the room across from the one from whence he had just came.

  
“How?! Five games in a row, for the love of god stop spamming Nayru’s Love!”

  
“It’s not my fault you’re bad at this game.”

  
“I literally cannot hit you, you absolute breadstick!”

  
Anderson shook his head, well aware of his partner’s cheap Zelda tactics. There was something bothering him though, apart from Gavin endlessly pressing B.

  
“He gets drugged, and now he’s playing video games…is he even bothered by what happened? By this entire situation?” Connor pursed his lips an unsure look creeped onto his face.

  
“As you can probably guess, I’ve never really talked to him. My brother is the one that has some strange interest in him, you know? I ask him about it and he gets super dodgy, just says he’s bored, but I grew up with him, I know there’s something else. Of course, I also know that he hates talking about feelings, with anyone, even with me.” Hank could see him getting back on track by the look in his expressive eyes. “Anyways, from what Rich has told me, they have a bit of a begrudging ‘friendship’. Reed has explicitly told him he doesn’t really have any friends, and so I guess he’s drawn the the fact that Rich has any sort of interest in him. I’ll just be minding my own business, sitting on the couch, and Rich will flop down next to me and shove his phone in my face, asking if I think Reed’s cats are cute. To answer your question, sorry for getting off topic by the way, your partner was definitely pissed about getting drugged and kidnapped, but he got over it pretty quick because my dumbass brother sat by his door until the early hours of the morning to apologize.” He took a breath to recuperate from the mouthful of words he’d just spewed before continuing, “Despite their…and I guess our differences too, they seem to have a lot in common, which is a pretty good base for an actual friendship. Besides, Rich doesn’t exactly go out…like at all. I’m the public face, so he doesn’t really know anyone outside of our happy little vigilante family. I can understand why, not so unlike Reed, he’d attach himself to the first person to show any sort of positive attention towards him.” In that moment, thanks to Connor, Hank understood the way that Gavin had been feeling for so long. He understood the loneliness, the desperation to connect with someone. Of course his partner had his best friend, Tina, with whom he quoted dead memes three times a day before not talking to each other for the next week. What a healthy, supportive friendship that truly sustains someone’s social need.

  
“What about you? Since you are the one that goes out, what friends have you made that have no idea about your secret little life?” A thoughtful look spread across Connor’s face.

  
“Well I have a few acquaintances that I’m friendly with here and there, but the ladies at the soup kitchen, like I said, are quite fond of me. They are fun to be around, we agree on a lot of things, and they are very kind. We have similar ideals. Janice just got divorced after thirty years of marriage, so we were all there to comfort her. It kind of reminds me of a support group but in a kitchen.” He paused again, his mouth was still open a bit, like he was going to say something. “It helps me feel like I’m more than…all of this.” He gestured to his surroundings, but Anderson knew what he really meant. So, perhaps the mob boss before him was more human than he’d truly believed. Sure, he’d said all that stuff about being a sadistic murderer, which was still beyond unnerving, but when the killer wasn’t trying to be intimidating, Hank could see nothing but another human with feelings and problems, though unlike his own, that he could empathize with. He didn’t quite know how to respond, he wasn’t very good with…people, so instead he nodded, hoping that the understanding would get across, and it seemed to.

  
“You’re probably hungry, considering we didn’t really feed you guys…uh, we’ve pretty much got like, cereal.” He vaguely gestured down the stairwell, and Anderson realized how famished he actually was. He shrugged and followed Connor downstairs.


	9. An Awkward Human Being Asking a Girl Out on a Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, Gavin is keeping his promises.  
> Both of them.  
> 1: That he won't turn the O'Malleys in  
> 2: That he'll ask Nina on a date

I suppose the easiest way to explain Gavin Reed’s situation would be “two dorks ‘sitting’ on a bed playing a game that was already nine years old”. He wasn’t exactly sitting, per se. His legs were resting nearly flat against the wall, practically upside down as he held his Switch over his head, continuing to absolutely put Rich, who was literally hanging upside down off of the bed, to shame. There was definitely blood rushing to their heads, but that just made each match more of a challenge- or it did for Richard, the only player actually doing any credible gaming. They were on their seventeenth round, and Gavin had won every single one by a landslide. Mostly because he just kept spinning Zelda like a record. Despite the duel itself, this was quite possibly the most relaxed the Detective had felt in a very long time. That is until his phone started ringing. He pulled it from his pocket and frowned at the name on the screen. He reached back and nudged Rich, telling him to pause and be quiet. He prepared the best sick sounding voice he could, something kind of groggy but kind of rough.

  
“Hey Cap’n.” He coughed, Rich was suppressing a laugh. “No sir, I haven’t hardly left my couch.” He rolled his eyes as Fowler babbled on, telling him how he needed to come back to work soon, whether or not he was feeling a little under the whether. “Yes, I understand your highness. Can I go?” He got hung up on. He let out a deep sigh, though there was a bit of a chuckle hidden within it.

  
“You seriously get away with talking to him like that?” Richard laughed, glancing down at the game for a moment. Gavin sarcastically scrunched up his face,

  
“What’s he gonna do, scold me? Nah, Fowler is just a mean Teddy Bear, he doesn’t enforce disciplinary action unless one of us actually screws up at work.”

  
“So you’re liable for disciplinary action then?”

  
“Why would I be?”

  
“How do you have such good grammar and still be this dumb?”

  
“Oh, right. Withholding evidence.” Rich smirked at him, nodding back at the game. Reed picked up his Switch to find Lucina announced as the victor. “That’s not fair! I wasn’t even holding it.” Richard shrugged, a smug grin on his face. The blizzard had finally let up a few hours ago, and the roads would soon enough be clear enough to drive on. Gavin turned himself over, resting his head against the headboard of the bed, turning off his Switch.

  
“I’m really not going to, you know.” He saw the confliction on the other man’s face, he looked distressed, afraid. “I don’t have a reason to do that. If anything, I have reasons to not.” Rich took a steady breath, daring to look him in the eye.

  
“I know that,” he took another breath, “I know. No matter how much I trust you, I’ll still be afraid of what me and my family have toppling down. You understand that, right?”

  
“Yeah,” Gavin answered, meeting his gaze, “Well, no. But I understand that sense of panic, afraid that things are going to go wrong. Afraid to trust the wrong person.” They sat in silence for a while, but for the first time in a long time, Gavin didn’t much mind it.

———

  
He’d taken advantage of pretending to be sick for another two days before actually returning to work. It was nice, just hanging around. Eating, sleeping, all the lovely lazy things to do when you’re “sick”. Eventually he faced the music that he had to go back to work, and was alright doing so. He’d already called in beforehand to let Fowler know that he was healthy again, but apparently the word hadn’t gotten out to anyone else, as his coworkers were surprised, not exactly pleasantly or unpleasantly, to see him. He knew he had stuff he had to work on, but he’d already made somebody a promise to do what he said he would.

  
Nina looked shocked when she realized Gavin had approached her, considering they never really had a reason to talk. Reed was uncomfortable with the entire situation, not because he feared rejection, but because she was his coworker. He took a deep breath and smiled, trying to seem more suave about the situation.

  
“Hey, Nina.” He resisted the urge to clear his throat from embarrassment, he knew he was already in too deep. Nina’s face lit up, her smile was heartwarming.

  
“Oh, hello Detective Reed!” She paused, there was a momentary, awkward, cringeworthy silence before she continued, “What brings you over here?” Gavin paused, his mind going blank. He couldn’t even remember what he was going to ask. He basically just stood there for like ten seconds before she prompted him again. “Uh, Detective?” He blinked back into reality and gave her an awkward smile.

  
“I was uh, I was wondering…wondering if you’d want to get coffee sometime?” He wanted to throw himself off a bridge, maybe bash his own head against a wall. He found himself looking back into her bright eyes, lit up with a new admiration.

  
“Sure! Yeah, of course, that would be great!” She tripped over her own words, Gavin found she seemed far more excited than he thought she would be. He sighed uncomfortably and shoved his hands in his pockets, resisting the urge to bounce on his toes, just so he could move.

  
“Right, sure. Is Saturday okay?” He asked, trying to get the conversation over with. She nodded eagerly, a light blush painted on her cheeks. He gave her a small nod and walked back to his desk as quickly as he could, glad he was out of range as Anderson stared up at him from his seat.

  
“What in the hell was that?” Hank’s eyebrows creased in confusion, absently letting his pen fall to the desk where he’d been trying to connect leads on Opis. Gavin gritted his teeth together, spinning his chair back and forth.

  
“I asked Nina on a date.”  
Hank nearly choked on his coffee, taking a moment to swallow safely before whipping his gaze back over to Gavin.

  
“You did not.” His face was plastered with shock, still holding his drink just above the desk, too distracted to put it down.

  
“Yeah, I did. Uh, Rich said that Connor said that she said she was into me, so I decided to give it a shot.” Gavin replied, slumping down into his seat. Hank had two ways he could go about this: ask how Gavin really feels or-

  
“What in the hell does she see in you?” He chuckled, allowing his coffee to rest on the tabletop. Gavin shrugged, shooting him an amused glare. He averted his attention to the files on his desk, the theories of who could possibly be the leaders of Gemini when a sudden realization struck.

  
“Shouldn’t we be investigating the more violent and pressing matter? You know, Opis?” Reed inquired, the guilt of being unable to finish his first investigation sinking in. Hank passed him a file from over the divider without sparing a glance, engaged in his own file.

  
“Already compiled shit, was just waiting for your dumb ass to get over here.”  
Ah yes, things were back to normal.


	10. Coffee Shops and Coffins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, Gavin gets to go on a date with Nina. (yay. can you tell how much I love writing this? No? good, I don't)  
> And unfortunate events get one of the brothers into a bit of a pickle.

Saturday, the big day. Just a little coffee date, nothing to worry about. Gavin met Nina at the shop at around 2 p.m., and they took their seats at a little table in the corner. Draping their coats over the backs of their chairs it was already uncomfortably quiet- for Gavin at least. Nina was radiating joy by just being in his vicinity. In her eyes, Gavin could tell she had questions, a lot of questions. Prepared questions. Questions. He just had to be ready.

“So…” he attempted to think of something, ANYTHING, he could say, but he lacked the years of social experience that most other people had. If there was an upside of going on a date with Nina, it’s that she was perfectly prepared for breaking silence.

“So, it this shop a local favorite of yours?” That seemed to do it. For the next hour an a half, the two of them managed to make plenty of conversation. Solely thanks to Nina. The skies were still littering snowflakes, which mixed with the short winter days, made it dusk-like outside. But who would’ve know, almost as though clockwork, Reed got a call from the captain. Shootout, likely the rival mobs. Now, last week perhaps he would found it dull, but not anymore. He found a sharp pain shooting through his chest. He was terrified for the life of his friend. He immediately jumped up, apologizing briefly to Nina for the interruption before bolting to his car.

  
———

  
Hank hated the worry he found welling up within him. He knew his partner likely felt similarly, but he did his best to dismiss the way the two of them looked at one another as they arrived at the scene. There were already other officers there, examining limp, bloodstained bodies. From the look of it, this was yet another planned encounter, but Opis nearly had as many dead as Gemini. As Hank and Gavin stepped through the minefield of bodies, they scanned the faces, desperately hoping that none of them resembled that of the twins. They were lucky to find that none of them did. As they took more time looking around the scene, something caught Anderson’s attention. He used his phone’s flashlight illuminate the snow beneath him, a small trail of blood droplets leading him to an old shipping crate. Though almost silent, there was a feint sound of ragged breathing coming from within. Gun drawn, Hank slowly rounded the crate, the snow crunching beneath his heavy steps. He paused once again, the breathing inaudible. Whoever was hiding knew he was coming. With a single swift motion, he shone his light inside the crate, his gun at the ready in case they were hostile.

“Connor!” Anderson hissed, the curly haired O’Malley looked up at him in relief, but his lip quivered. He shifted slightly, revealing blood soaking through his shirt. His breathing was becoming more uncontrollable and unsteady, but it wasn’t just from pain. No, there was a waterfall of tears rolling down his cheeks, tears smeared with blood. Anderson immediately crawled inside the crate and gently pulled Connor out, careful to not expose the entrance wound. The bullet was still inside of him, which meant the bleeding would kill him slower. He carefully scooped the O’Malley into his arms, trying to figure out how he could get him back to hi car without anybody seeing.

“Does this-,” Connor choked out, “Does this count?” Hank couldn’t hardly answer him, he was too busy motioning to get Reed’s attention. The moment Gavin realized the situation, Hank watched the fear reappear in his parter’s eyes. He immediately dragged Hank and Connor back to the cruisers without witness, as he’d been observing the placements of everybody and everything on site. There was no time to waste, they were going to the Hospital.

Carrying Connor into the emergency room wasn’t how the Lieutenant had expected his Saturday evening to go, but it was going to have to do. O’Malley was repeatedly fading in and out of consciousness, and luckily it was a slow enough night for the ER to the point he could be operated on immediately. Hank considered going home, but he found himself sitting in the waiting room, keeping Gavin up to date on the situation. It was about 7 p.m. when he was approached by a familiar figure. Dressed in a high collar jacket, a baseball cap and a pair of aviators, they took a seat next to him. Anderson wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly who it was.

“He’s stabilizing,” the Lieutenant muttered, just loud enough for the figure to hear. He watched as they fiddled with their hands nervously.

“Thank you,” Richard murmured in response, “he…He would have died if you hadn’t brought him here.” Hank nodded solemnly, looking down at his phone. Gavin wasn’t coming, he said he couldn’t handle any more stress that day. Anderson wasn’t certain what compelled him to say it, but he felt like he needed to.

“I doubt Gavin would have bothered to tell you this, but he was worried. I mean, he looked terrified walking onto that scene, terrified of the idea that you were there.” Richard lifted his head a little, sparing a glance at Hank.

“I do actually like him, you know.”

“You shouldn’t. He shouldn’t like you either. I shouldn’t like your brother, but I do.” Anderson shook his head, staring off in the direction of Connor’s operation room. “This whole thing is fucking mess.” Richard was quiet, from then on, he left eventually after a nurse had come to give Hank another update. He did, though, first give the Lieutenant some clean clothes for Connor when he was ready to come home. Hank knew that Richard couldn’t look like someone in a shitty movie disguise for long before raising suspicion. It took hours, but eventually (and accidentally) Anderson managed to fall asleep in a waiting room chair.

Hank made sure he called Fowler to let him know he’d be coming in late, but he made sure he evaded the question as to why. Connor was quiet for most of the ride, beside some strained breaths when he’d accidentally shift in a way that evoked pain in the wound. When they began to near his house, he finally said something.  
“You never answered my question.” There wasn’t annoyance in his voice, just his more recognizable concern.

  
“No. The answer is no.” Hank replied. Connor nodded, the same relief the Lieutenant had seen the previous night in his eyes. O’Malley went back to resting his head on the window.

As they pulled into the driveway, there was another car, one he hadn’t seen before. He looked at Connor expectantly, but his dark eyes were just as curious. Anderson got out first so he could help Connor in, carefully wrapping his arm beneath the other man’s so he could support him. They cautiously approached the door, Connor peaked inside before swinging it all the way open. Hank hadn’t expected a little old lady to come tumbling over to them.

“Connor, dear!” Her voice was warm and full of something between compassion and concern. “Goodness I was so worried when Richard told me what happened, are you alright?” She patted his arms and rested her hands on his face, staring at him, awaiting his response. Connor gently shrugged off Hanks arm, glancing back and giving a small, thankful smile. He took the old woman’s hand and slowly guided her to the sofa, whining a little in pain as he sat down.

“I’m alright, Candace, thank you for worrying about me.” He said softly, his expression gracious. The woman seemed to acknowledge Hank’s presence for the first time.

  
“And who are you dear?” Hank opened his mouth, not entirely sure how to answer, but Connor interrupted before he could figure out what to say.

“He’s a friend of mine, the one that took me to the ER,” he paused, looking over at Hank, “he saved my life.” Candace gave a small gasp and put her hand over her heart, staring over at the Lieutenant.

“Oh my- oh bless you dear, oh you thank you for saving this little ray of sunshine,” she absently placed her hands on Connor’s wrists affectionately, “oh I’m not sure what this pitiful world would do without his kind heart!” Hank wanted to chuckle at the irony, but didn’t because at this point he was certain this old woman had no idea the O’Malley family business.

“Of course,” he responded plainly, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”


	11. Chapter 11

R(So, how was your date?

G(It was alright, she's nice.

R(R U 2 going out again?

G(Don't know, most work days are like dates at this point considering how often she insists upon involving herself in our case.

R(You don't happen to have any evidence of our identities laying around do you?

G(Yeah, I've got a whole fucking essay just sitting on my desk.

G(No, asshole, I'm not that stupid.

R(Geez, just asking.

R(Tsundere

G(Weeb

R(Said the weeb

R(Also just because I know what a Tsundere is doesn't mean I watch anime it's like a universal term at this point

G(Do you realize how your hard your lack of punctuation makes your texts to read?

R(Nope, because I'm not nitpicky.

G(Sweet god, a comma! A period!

G( What an ironic statement to have punctuation on.

R(Yeah, yeah. Whatever.

R(Hey, any chance you're free tomorrow night? I finally got my Switch hooked up to my TV. ( ͡◉ ͜ʖ ͡◉)

G(I'm free if your guys don't cause trouble.

R(That's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. My guys will be grateful for a day off.

G(Alright, see you tomorrow.

\---

Connor wasn't exactly unfazed by Gavin showing up at their house, that was apparent by the look of confusion on his face.  Once Reed informed the brown-eyed brother that he and Rich were going to play video games, Connor seemed to get it.  He stepped aside and let him in, the house was as magnificent as always.  He bounced up the steps and over to Rich's door, knocking lightly.  The door opened and Gavin was face to face with him once again, those beautiful blue eyes bored into his own, catching him off guard.  It was strange, ironic almost, that the most overwhelming thing he felt with Rich was safety.  A smile seemed to find it's way onto Richard's face as he gestured for Gavin to enter, but Gavin tried to not focus on that too much.

"Catch," Rich said, tossing Gavin a controller, "Zelda is off limits."  

Reed threw his arms up in defeat, giving Rich an annoyed scowl.  The response he received was nothing less and a smug grin from a bitter Lucina main.  Gavin kicked off his shoes and took a seat on the bed, back against the headboard.  Rich seemed to hesitate a moment before he joined him, eyes darting from Gavin to where the remote for the TV was lying on the endtable.  He flicked the screen on and took a seat on the bed, crosslegged.

The first few rounds of Smash Bros definitely went in Richard's favor, Gavin was just scrambling to find somebody else to play.  After, about seven consecutive rounds of losing, Reed finally chose Pac-man.  And all he did?  Spam the B Attack.  Disgusting.  The rest of the night was just the two of them, laughing at random shit, referencing memes long dead, and just...smiling.  They were happy.  For Gavin, this was something new.  He wasn't popular in High school, but it was more than that.  He had a couple of people, a couple of friends that he'd hang out with at lunch, but they weren't close.  They never even hung out outside of school.  He didn't have  _anybody_.  Not like this.  Never like this.  It was in between rounds when he looked at Rich and realized it, everything.  Rich caught his eye and turned to look at him,

"What?" he giggled, a light blush painted on his cheeks.  They'd reached the point where they were both so tired that literally  _everything_ was funny, for example were you to just crouch repeatedly in SSB, they'd probably lose their shit.

"Oh, nothin'," Gavin grinned and turned back to the character selection screen.  Just then the doorbell rang, and Rich jumped up.

"Be right back," he quipped as he rushed out of the room.  "I'll get it!" Gavin heard him call as the footsteps thumped down the steps.  He rested his head against the headboard now, closing his eyes.  Perhaps contentment was an understatement, this was the first time he'd felt this...this...joyful?  Just then Rich popped back into the room, carrying a couple takeout boxes.

"Hope you're not a little bitch because the spiciness level is three," he said, handing Gavin one of the boxes and a fork.  Gavin knew the smell by heart, it was Pad Thai, one of the greatest foods of all time.

"Challenge accepted," he hummed back, smiling at Rich again, "did you really write that down somewhere? That I like Thai food?"  Rich smirked and shook his head, sitting back down.

"Don't need to, I've really good memory."

 

They didn't really mean to, it'd just been a long night.  They were half awake playing Smash Bros at like one in the morning as though neither of them had to wake up early the next day.  They were both exhausted, so they didn't really notice when they both fell asleep on each other.  Connor on the other hand, oh, Connor drank as much coffee as it took to stay up long enough to get a picture.  


	12. Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a very short chapter, the summery could be about as long as it, so I'll leave it be.

"If you show him that photo, they will never find your body." Connor scoffed at his brother's threat, teasingly waving his phone in his face.

"Well I think it's cute," he gave Richard a mocking 'aww' face, "I guess a couple of messy sleepers in the same bed is just a recipe for tangled limbs." Richard pretended to reach out to choke him, frowning in frustration.

He'd woken up first, you see. Realizing the position they were in would have made anybody flustered, no matter the relationship, but when you feel the way Richard did, it made it something more entirely.  If you don't think the image of their legs entangled with one another, the feeling of being so naturally affectionate with someone, wouldn't be burned into Richard's mind from then until forever, you'd be dead wrong.

"Don't show him."  No threat remained in Rich's voice, it wasn't funny anymore. "Please, just-" he took a short breath, "just don't."  Connor's teasing attitude disappeared, and and proceeded to give a long sigh.

"You regret it, telling him he should go on a date with that officer girl," he said matter-of-factly (despite the sympathetic undertone), "I'm sure you didn't expect this at the time."  Richard was silent, unable to look his brother in the eye.

"It was a mistake," he mumbled, his eyes flickering shut, "I should have just let him die."

"You don't mean that," Connor snapped, his voice uncertain. "You know you don't." He set down his phone and held onto his brother's shoulders, "You wish you did. But you don't."  Richard pulled away, taking a seat at the dining room table.  Just then, he heard thumping from upstairs and Gavin appeared, still pulling his shoes on.  Reed practically fell down the stairs in a hurry,

"Gonna be late for work, thanks for having me over!" With that, he barreled through the door and out of the house.  Rich wanted to smile, but he was overpowered by doubt.

"I can't keep doing this."

"Rich-"

"I can't, Con. So just- just...stop."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> How do you guys actually want this story to end?  
> Tragedy?  
> Happy Ending?  
> PLEASE TELL ME!!


	13. Where have you gone?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin and Richard deal with painful thoughts.

G(Sorry I fell asleep, I probably should have gone home earlier.

Gavin shoved his phone into his pocket as he entered the station, a cold winter sun shining through the ungodly sized windows in the lobby.  He squinted a bit at the inconvenience and sped up his pace so he'd be rid of it sooner. But, alas, as soon as he sat down at his desk, Nina appeared.

"Hey Gavin," she gave him a small smile that was apparent in her voice, "so, uh, when do you think would be a good time for another date?"  Reed felt his stomach twist, his breath hitched.

"Nina," he started scrambling for the right words, "you are the kindest, most happy-go-lucky, extroverted person I know, and anybody would be lucky to have a chance with you."  He watched her face fall, and he felt bad knowing that she knew what was coming.  "But-" he took a breath, cursing himself for ever putting her in this situation, "that person isn't me."  He grasped at an explanation the best he could, "I know this sounds generic, but it really isn't you, it's me.  I don't know why I don't feel the way about you that you do about me, because you're lovely, but I just- well, I don't."  Nina was silent for a moment, but then she nodded sadly, turning to walk away.

"Detective Reed, I hope that you find what you're looking for."

\---

Six hours, no response.  Gavin understood that he could be busy, he had other things to do- but usually he would have shot him a quick text anyway.  He started wondering if he did something wrong, if he screwed up somehow.  It was irrational to think like that, right?  There's no point in overthinking things, right?  He didn't do anything wrong, Rich doesn't hate him.  Why would he?  Maybe it's because he fell asleep, maybe he's uncomfortable. 

What if this?

What if that?

The stress of worrying about it was overwhelming.

G(Hey sorry again, I need to get better at checking the time. 

G(And sorry for pestering you, I know I'm annoying sometimes.

All he could do was apologize.  Apologize out of fear, apologize because he couldn't think of anything else to say.

He's so annoying.  Why would Richard have even wanted to be around him in the first place?  Maybe he just finally got fed up with him.  Just like everybody else.  

Just like everybody else.

\---

The text tone went off again, but Richard knew that if he looked at it, he'd want to respond.  He was in too deep, and now he had to deal with it.  Gavin Reed was a weakness, one far too easy to exploit.  It had come together in his mind that ever since he and his brother had massacred Opis members for going after the authorities, the rival gang must have known that they mean something to them, that they could be used as a bargaining chip perhaps.  Richard realized all of this, but he feared it was too late.

_I didn't mean to._

He didn't like the quiet, it had never bothered him before.  Amazing how desolate a place can feel after company has come and gone.  How desolate it feels without them.  Without the laughter and connection.  Without him.

He tried to shake the feeling, desperate to once again feel devoid of compassion for somebody who was nothing but a liability.  Nothing.  

His phone beeped again, and it was finally too much for him.  Richard snatched his phone and gazed at the messages before him.

G(Sorry I fell asleep, I probably should have gone home earlier.

G(Hey sorry again, I need to get better at checking the time. 

G(And sorry for pestering you, I know I'm annoying sometimes.

_No you're not!_

It took everything Rich had in him to put the phone down, to not respond.

_It wasn't supposed to be like this._

No rival gang, not Opis, not anybody, had ever found a single weakness in Gemini's web.  Not until now.  Not until  _him_.  A longing tugged at Richard's heart that he couldn't ignore, it was beginning to cause him physical pain.  The headaches would not cease, the churning in his stomach refusing to settle, the thoughts running through his mind made his eyes burn.  

_I know._

_Opis knows._

_You don't._

_And it's better that you don't._

_It's better that I don't tell you._

_Maybe they'll leave you alone._

_Maybe I won't have to make hard decisions because of you._

_It's hard to fear both outcomes._

_It's hard to be afraid that if I tell you, you'll leave._

_But it's even harder to be afraid that if I tell you, you'll **stay**._


End file.
